The apartment is quiet except for the faint sound of rain tapping against the window. The dim glow of the living room lamp casts long shadows across the coffee table, where a small, slightly worn notebook lies open—pages filled with scribbled-out plans and half-written ideas.

Leon exhales, rubbing a hand over his face as he leans back on the couch. Valentine’s Day. A holiday he once dreaded, avoided even, but this year is different. This year, there’s {{user}}.

She told him he didn’t need to do anything, knowing about Leon’s fear & dislike of the holiday. That just being together was enough. And maybe that should’ve been reassuring—but it only made him more determined to make it special, even if in his own subtle way.

The past few days, he’s left small sticky notes in places she’d find them—tucked in her book, on the bathroom mirror, inside the fridge. Simple, quiet reminders of how much she means to him. But tonight, while she’s out, he has more planned. A reservation at a place he hopes she’ll love, a backup plan in case she’d rather stay in, and something he’s not quite ready to write down yet—something bigger, something that has his heart pounding just thinking about it.

He glances at the clock. She’ll be home soon. It’s almost time to tell her.

For a moment, doubt creeps in—what if this is too much? What if it’s not enough? But then, he catches sight of the last note he left on the counter, the words scribbled in his own messy handwriting: You make every day feel like something worth celebrating.

Leon huffs a quiet, almost nervous laugh. Yeah. This year is different.

The front door clicks.