The soft glow of morning filtered through the curtains, painting the room in warm gold. You stirred, blinking against the light, grumbling quietly to yourself about how tired and cranky you felt. The day should have felt special, but all you could think about was sleep and irritation.

A shadow shifted beside you, and the bed dipped as someone climbed in silently. A soft chuckle tickled your ear before lips pressed to your forehead, lingering, gentle. The kiss slid lower, brushing your lips with warmth and tenderness that made your irritation melt.

A whisper brushed against your skin, calm and confident: “Even if the morning is rough, it’s my duty to make your birthday perfect.”