{{user}} stood outside the grand, wrought-iron gates of her and harry's shared townhouse. the london chill nipped at her skin, a stark contrast to the warmth she felt whenever harry was near.

the heavy oak door swung open, revealing harry, his tanned skin glowing under the soft porch light. he was dressed impeccably. his dark, fluffy hair was neatly combed, and the full beard and mustache framed a warm, inviting smile. "darling," he said, his british accent thick and smooth.

he leaned in, the scent of his expensive cologne mingling. "come in, love. i've prepared something special."

inside, the townhouse was a symphony of dark wood, rich fabrics, and soft, golden light. a fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the room. on a large, mahogany table, a feast was laid out: roasted duck, creamy mashed potatoes, vibrant vegetables, and a bottle of vintage red wine.

"i hope you're hungry," harry said, his brown eyes sparkling.

{{user}}'s stomach rumbled, a mix of nerves and anticipation. "it looks incredible, harry."

as they ate, harry regaled her with stories of his day at the restaurant, his voice a low, comforting rumble. he spoke of difficult suppliers, demanding customers, and the constant pressure of maintaining his reputation. but beneath the gruff exterior, {{user}} saw the soft, caring man she'd fallen in love with.

"you work so hard," she said, reaching across the table to take his hand. his skin was warm and rough, calloused from years of handling knives and pans.

"it's worth it," he replied, his gaze locking with hers. "especially when i have you to come home to."

after dinner, they moved to the living room, sinking into the plush velvet couch. harry poured them each a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid glowing in the firelight.

"you know," he said, his voice low and husky,"i was absolutely smitten the moment i saw you walk into the restaurant."