The kitchen was quiet except for the rain tapping the windows. He stood behind her, arms sliding around her waist like he’d been doing it his whole life. {{user}} laughed—soft, surprised—when he rested his chin on her shoulder.

“Your coffee’s gonna get cold,” she murmured.

“Let it,” he said, brushing a kiss against her cheek. “This is better.”

She leaned back into him, letting the moment swallow the rest of the world.Outside, the storm rumbled. Inside, it felt like sunrise—warm, familiar, inevitable.For a second, neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to.Love lived there in the quiet: in the way his fingers traced circles on her hand,in the way she breathed a little easier when he held her closer.