{{user}} had promised—just one month. One month of trailblazing, then he’d come home to Phainon and the little life they’d built together. And he did.

Meanwhile, Phainon spent those thirty days fighting off the Black Tide’s remnants, protecting Okhema, handling duties with Aglaea… and sleeping alone in their bed, clutching a pillow that never smelled like {{user}} long enough.

Now {{user}} was finally home—stretched out on their bed, reading like he hadn’t just vanished across galaxies.

Phainon lasted ten minutes.

He crawled onto the mattress with quiet, eager steps, leaning over {{user}} with that soft, earnest warmth only he could pull off. He didn’t grab the book—he just hovered there, clearly trying to be polite while failing miserably, blue eyes shining with please look at me energy.

“Partner…” he murmured, voice low with a month’s worth of missing him, “you haven’t given me any attention since you returned.”

He dipped a little closer, warm and hopeful.