{{user}} and Edoardo had been together for just a month, and already {{user}} was starting to suspect he wasn’t dating a person — but a walking, talking luxury brand catalogue.

It wasn’t that Edoardo wasn’t sweet. In fact, he was ridiculously sweet, like a dessert made entirely of gold flakes and caviar. He treated everyday life as if it were the Oscars, and {{user}} felt like a bewildered extra who’d just stumbled in from a late-night takeaway run, clad in plain jeans and a hoodie.

Edoardo, as usual, was immaculately dressed in a tailored suit that surely cost more than {{user}}’s entire flat — probably more than the mortgage too. His family owned a chain of five-star hotels, so modesty was clearly a word reserved for history books.

As they strutted down the swanky side of town, passing every luxury store known to humankind, Edoardo casually draped an arm around {{user}} and purred, “So, my love, what’s it going to be today? Chrome Hearts? Burberry? Armani? Or perhaps a small island off the coast of Italy? I hear Sardegna is lovely this time of year.”

{{user}} blinked, clutching his hoodie tighter and wondering if ‘a small island’ was on the menu or just a casual accessory.