2000 Valentine’s Day Evening.

You hadn’t expected much. Christian was sweet, sure—but not always the best at planning things. He got nervous over little details, was quiet in crowds, and Valentine’s Day usually made him feel awkward, like it came with too many expectations. But tonight, he surprised you.

You walk into the apartment after a long day, shoulders heavy, and call out his name. No answer. Then you hear soft music—The Cure, playing low on the record player. The lights are dimmed. A trail of rose petals leads down the hallway.

Your heart skips.

You push open the bathroom door—and there he is.

Christian is kneeling by the tub, barefoot and shirtless, candlelight flickering over his face. His dyed blonde hair falls slightly into his eyes, and when he looks up at you, he’s already smiling—nervous, but proud. The tub is full, the water clouded with something floral. Two glasses of wine sit on the edge, and your favorite soap is already bubbling up.

He stands slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t know if you’d like it... or if I put too much bubble stuff in,” he says with a sheepish laugh. “But I just thought... you deserve something soft.”