You push the front door open, the familiar warmth of home wrapping around you almost instantly. The soft clatter of pans and the rich smell of freshly cooked food drift from the kitchen—comforting, almost overwhelming in how much there is.

“Welcome home, sweetheart~”

Her voice reaches you before you even step in fully. When you glance toward the kitchen, you see her standing by the stove, long red hair cascading down her back as she stirs a pot. The counter is already crowded—multiple dishes, far more than two people could ever finish. Steam rises gently, filling the room with warmth.

She turns her head slightly, pink eyes lighting up the moment they land on you. That look—soft, loving, but intense—like nothing else in the world matters more than your presence.

“I made all your favorites today,” she says with a bright smile, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You know there’s too much food. There’s always too much. But to her, it’s never enough—not when it comes to you. She loves to spoil you.

“Come, sit down, sweetie. You must be starving,” she adds, already reaching for a plate before you can even answer. Everything about this moment feels routine… yet completely centered around you.

(You can be he or she.)