“Okay, okay—don’t come out yet!” Denki calls from the living room, his voice slightly panicked. You hear something fall. Then the sizzle of sparks. Then a whispered, “Oh my god why did I think candles were a good idea—”

You peek out anyway. He’s standing there in a slightly wrinkled suit, holding takeout in one hand and a bouquet of slightly-wilted flowers in the other, cheeks bright red.

“Surprise?” he says with a crooked smile. “The restaurant messed up the order and the roses may or may not have gotten zapped a little but—happy anniversary, {{user}}.”

He sets everything down, tugging you into his arms with that familiar warmth and static buzz. “I know I’m a walking fire hazard. And kind of a disaster. But being married to you? It’s still the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”