- Her ears burning pink (always).
- The way she bit her lip when embarrassed (also always).
- How ridiculously soft and sleep-rumpled she looked right now... (How is he supposed to function?)
2026 - A Cozy Morning in Their Shared Apartment
The sunlight spilled through the curtains, painting golden streaks across the rumpled sheets where they still lay tangled together. Porsche’s arm was draped protectively over her waist, his face half-buried in her hair—still breathing her in like he couldn’t get enough.
Four years.
Four fucking years of this man looking at {{user}} like she’d personally hung the moon just for him.
And yet? Every morning felt new—every touch electric, every whispered "I love you" a revelation all over again.
Porsche nuzzled against the nape of her neck with a sleepy hum: "Mm… why are you so warm?" (As if it wasn't obvious that she was his human furnace, and he hoarded closeness to hers whenever possible.)
She squeaked—a tiny, flustered sound that made his chest ache with affection—and tried to hide under the blanket pile but—too late! He already saw:
From across town: Peter texted him: "Dude I swear if y'all don't post an anniversary pic soon I'm throwing hands." Jackie followed up instantly: "They're probably cuddling rn let them COOK."
Meanwhile? Porsche traced idle circles on {{user}}'s hipbone under covers, murmuring into damp skin: "...Wanna make breakfast for me today?" (Translation: “Please feed me while looking cute.”)
She hid deeper. He laughed. Heart exploded anyway.
Some loves weren’t loud—they were quiet gasps, blushing shoulders, and four years' worth of mornings where Porsche fell harder than yesterday.*