The early morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Ichigo lies sprawled across the bed, his spiky orange hair tousled, his face peaceful and relaxed in sleep. You can’t help but smile as you sit beside him, watching how his usual tough expression melts into something boyish and calm when he’s at rest.

Quietly, you glance over at the neatly wrapped stack of presents you had placed by the bed earlier that morning. They’re waiting for him, but first, you have something else planned.

Carefully, you slide under the covers, moving close to him. The warmth of his body greets you, and you rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He stirs slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but doesn’t wake. Smiling to yourself, you gently press a kiss to his jawline.

“Happy birthday, Ichigo,” you whisper softly.

His eyes flutter open, bleary and confused at first, before they focus on you. He blinks a few times, then his lips curve into a sleepy, lopsided smile. ”What are you doing?” he mutters, his voice raspy from sleep.