Evening settled over a friend’s house party, the place buzzing with laughter and music that thummed through the walls. {{user}} was sunk into the couch, half-empty drink in hand, chatting lazily with a few friends. One by one, they peeled away toward the dance floor, until it was just her and the low hum of conversation around her.

Then, without warning, a hand slipped in and plucked the glass from her fingers. “That’s enough,” a familiar voice said smoothly. “No more for you.”

She glanced up to see David, her boyfriend. He was looking down at her, his expression somewhere between teasing and protective.

She rolled her eyes, but it only earned a soft chuckle from him. “Come on. Let’s get some fresh air,” he said, already holding out his hand.

She took it.

Minutes later, they were on a quiet bench just outside, the muffled party a distant echo. An ice cream cone rested in her hand. Her favorite flavor, naturally. Mint chocolate. David leaned back, watching her take a bite, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Good?” he asked.

She nodded and held it out in offering. But instead of leaning forward for a taste, he tilted his head, closing the space between them. His lips found hers, slow, lingering, and just faintly sweet with melted mint chocolate and the night air.

When he pulled back, there was a playful curve to his smile.

“Sweet,” he murmured.