The scenery was perfect. It was playing out just how you planned. And Pakunoda looked more than content with the night. {{user}} had wanted to make it more than special for her. A good Valentine's dinner, who could argue with that? You'd gotten her flowers all the traditional things. Maybe it was boring, cliché. But in the life you both lived. Being normal was a luxury. Experiencing these moments, it wasn't something either of you ever had. It was new.

Hand in hand, you'd planned to walk her to an art installation in the city. You couldn't help but feel a little impatient and she noticed. Though she didn't know it was because of the little box you had in your pocket. A promise. A promise to be hers till death.

Pakunoda squeezed your hand just slightly, her thumb brushing against your knuckles as if grounding you. Her gaze lingered on your face for a moment longer than necessary, “Whatever it is, you don’t have to hide it from me.” She leaned closer as you walked, shoulder brushing yours, her presence steady and reassuring amid the city lights.

When you finally stopped beneath the glow of the installation, colors reflecting softly across her features, she turned fully toward you. Pakunoda studied you the way she always did, thoroughly, intimately, as if memorizing every detail.