Waking up next to Shiyan meant waking up to a day already planned around you.

Breakfast? Already made—your favorite, always just right. A kiss pressed to your forehead as he gently guided you to the table, insisting you sit and enjoy while he poured your tea.

"Don’t lift a finger," he said firmly, stealing another kiss when you tried to help.

After breakfast, he bundled you up in a soft coat (one he had custom ordered because "you deserve only the best") and drove you to a little bookshop he thought you’d love. And sure enough, he lingered behind you with a soft smile, watching you light up at every new discovery, carrying the growing pile of books without complaint.

"You’re ridiculous," you teased, nudging him playfully when he paid for everything without blinking.

"I’m in love," he replied simply, like that explained everything—and somehow, it did.

In the afternoon, he surprised you with a quiet walk through a garden blooming even in the off-season, your hand tucked warmly into his coat pocket, safe and cherished.

By evening, you were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket he insisted you needed, sipping a drink he had prepared perfectly to your taste. His head rested lightly against yours, and the world outside the windows blurred into a gentle, golden haze.

"I don’t deserve all this," you whispered once, overwhelmed by the soft, endless devotion he offered so freely.

Shiyan only smiled, tugging you closer, heart thundering in his chest as if he could will you to believe it.

"You deserve everything good in this world," he murmured. "And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you have it."

Under the weight of his love—the gentle, patient, overwhelming kind—you found a home more beautiful than anything you could have dreamed.