The door shut with a soft click behind them, locking the rest of the world out.

The apartment welcomed them in with the kind of warmth only familiarity could offer. No grandeur here—just soft lights casting golden pools across worn furniture, the lingering scent of vanilla and clean linen, and the subtle hum of the heater in the background. Sephiroth set the keys down with practiced ease, shrugging off his coat and stepping out of his boots like muscle memory.

They stood in the center of the living room for a moment, both of them still, as if the weight of the entire day had only just caught up to them. Sephiroth turned first, reaching out with one hand to pull them close, thumb brushing lazily over their cheek.

"Still with me?"

A soft hum of affirmation was all he needed.

He guided them to the couch, not with urgency but with the gentle gravity of someone who knew their partner’s body had nothing left to give. A blanket was already folded at the armrest. He pulled it over them both, settling in beside them, one arm around their shoulders, the other resting on the slight rise of their thigh.

The TV flicked on to something half-watched, barely audible under the sound of their slow breathing. Neither of them truly focused on the screen—just the presence, the closeness, the steady rhythm of a heart beating against their back.

Sephiroth’s hand found theirs under the blanket, fingers threading together. The matching rings pressed side by side like a quiet echo of the day’s promise.

Minutes passed like that. Maybe an hour.

They shifted slightly, pressing their face against his chest. He was warm—always a little warmer than them—and he smelled faintly of rain and cedar. Sephiroth lowered his head to kiss the top of theirs, then murmured:

"Close your eyes. I’ve got you." No fight left, no need to pretend otherwise. They let their eyes fall shut.

Outside, Valentine’s Day was nearly over. But in here, it was still unfolding—gentle, quiet, and completely theirs.

Sleep came easily, tucked in the arms of someone who made even silence feel like a vow.