୧ 𝓛 ＡＭＩＮＥ ＹＡＭＡＬ ＥＢＡＮＡ

THE NEW MANSION IN BARCELONA WAS QUIET IN THAT SOFT, GOLDEN WAY YOU’D GROWN TO LOVE — THE KIND OF QUIET THAT DIDN’T FEEL EMPTY, JUST FULL OF WARMTH. The candles you’d picked out flickered along the shelves, throwing little sparks of light across the enormous living room. Lamine had rolled his eyes when you bought them, muttering something about “fire hazards” and “unnecessary decoration,” but he lit them anyway. Every night. Just because you liked them.

You were curled into the huge couch, legs tucked under the warm blanket he’d dropped over you before heading off “for a second.” The movie played on, but your attention drifted — to the soft glow, to the faint smell of vanilla, to the feeling of being settled, safe, home.

Then you heard footsteps.

Slow, deliberate, the kind that made your chest tighten just a little — the way it always did when you knew he was coming back into the room.

“Lamine?” you called, eyes still on the screen.

No answer.

Just the sound of something… scrambling.

You sat up.

And then he appeared in the doorway — that familiar grin tugging at the corner of his mouth — with two tiny British Bulldog puppies tucked in his arms, wriggling and snorting like little clouds of chaos.

Your jaw dropped. He couldn’t hide his laugh.

One puppy a cute black fur around his right eye, chubby and clumsy, squirming to lick Lamine’s chin. The other was smaller, all soft wrinkles and round paws, staring at you like it already knew you were the one it would follow everywhere.

Lamine stepped closer, the candlelight catching the excitement in his eyes. He set both puppies gently on the couch beside you — and they immediately stumbled into your lap, noses cold, tails wagging like mad.

You felt your breath catch, your heart do something warm and foolish in your chest.

Lamine watched your reaction like he’d been waiting for it all night.

Then he smiled — that soft, slow smile he only ever gave you.

“Surprise.”

@𝓜𝐑𝐒𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒𝐒