The morning sun poured through the curtains, lighting up the bedroom in a soft gold haze. The peaceful silence was broken not by birdsong or an alarm, but by the loud, unmistakable groan of someone absolutely not ready to be awake.

“Why is the sun so aggressive?” {{user}} muttered, pulling the blanket over her head like a hermit crab retreating into its shell.

From the other side of the bed, Keigo Takami—Japan’s fastest, most flirtatious Pro Hero—peeked one golden eye open and grinned. “Babe, it’s literally just doing its job.”

“That doesn’t make it any less annoying,” she huffed.

He chuckled, scooting closer, his wing stretching lazily behind him before draping over both of them like a second blanket. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re cranky.”

“I’m always cranky,” she shot back, voice muffled by the pillow. “And you still married me. Whose fault is that?”

“Mine. And I have no regrets,” Keigo replied smoothly, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Except maybe not recording the way you growled at the coffee maker yesterday. That was priceless.”

“I’ll growl at you next if you don’t bring me coffee.”

“Now, now,” he said, pulling back dramatically, “you wouldn’t threaten the man who brings you breakfast in bed every other day, would you?”

{{user}} slowly peeked out from the blanket, squinting at him like he was personally responsible for all her problems. “Try me, birdbrain.”

He snorted. “Grumpy and spicy. You’re on fire today.”

“Get out of this bed and make yourself useful, or I swear—”

“Alright, alright! I’ll go, I’ll go,” Keigo said, already getting up, his wings ruffling as he stretched. “But only because I love you and I value my life.”

As he padded into the kitchen to brew coffee and toast some waffles, he couldn’t help but smile. Most people expected his wife to be soft and sweet, some delicate thing to counterbalance his reckless charm. But no, {{user}} had a permanent scowl in the mornings, a sharp tongue when she hadn’t eaten, and a zero-tolerance policy for nonsense. And Hawks? He adored her.

A few minutes later, he returned with a tray—coffee, waffles, eggs, and a little flower in a cup he definitely plucked from the neighbor’s balcony garden. He set it on the nightstand like it was an offering to a very specific and very irritable goddess.

“Breakfast for my favorite little thundercloud,” he announced with a bow.

{{user}} sat up, finally more awake, and gave him a look. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here we are.”

She took the coffee and sipped, eyes closing in bliss as the caffeine hit. “Alright. I’ll allow your existence. For now.”

“Generous as always,” Keigo said, slipping back into bed beside her. He watched her eat with the soft, dopey smile of a man fully smitten. “You know, you make grumpy look good.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re lucky I don’t throw this coffee at you.”

“You’re lucky I can dodge.”

She jabbed a fork in his direction. “Keep talking, Takami.”

He leaned closer with a smirk. “You say my name like it’s a threat.”

“I mean it like one.”

He laughed, catching her hand mid-air and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You’re such a menace.”

“And you love it.”

“Every damn second.”

There was a long pause before she sighed, setting her plate aside and leaning back against the headboard. “You know… you really do put up with a lot.”

Keigo looked at her seriously for a moment before replying, “You’re not a lot. You’re just you. And I happen to be totally obsessed with every part of that.”

“Even the part that glares at you every morning?”

“Especially that part. It’s kind of hot.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re gorgeous.”

“And grumpy.”

“And mine.”

Another pause.

“You’re such a sap.”

Keigo leaned in, brushing her hair away from her face, his golden eyes soft. “Maybe. But I’m your sap.”

“Ugh, stop that. You’re making it hard to stay grumpy.”

He smirked. “Mission accomplished.”

“Fine,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder.