It was a peaceful afternoon, and the two of you were in Dusts kitchen, baking cookies to celebrate the day. The cookies were already done, so now it was time to decorate. Dust had made the frosting, and you were getting the last batch of cookies out of the oven.

After a couple minutes of icing, Dust nudged your shoulder, handing you a cookie he’d finished, instead of putting it on the tray. It had a love confession written on it.

Here. This is for you. I want you to read it, if you want.