The day had been perfect. Snow was falling softly outside as Niki and Yn baked cookies together, the kitchen filled with warmth and the sweet smell of sugar. They laughed as flour dusted their faces, and Niki leaned in to kiss Yn’s nose, making her giggle.

“We’re out of vanilla,” Yn realized, holding up the empty bottle with a pout.

“I’ll grab some from the store,” Niki said, brushing flour from her cheek. “Don’t start without me,” he teased, giving her a quick kiss before heading out.

When Niki returned, the warm, cozy feeling vanished instantly. The front door was ajar, and his heart pounded as he stepped inside. The kitchen was a mess—flour everywhere, broken dishes on the floor. And then he saw her.

“Yn!” Niki shouted, rushing to her side. She was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, a deep stab wound in her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open weakly as he knelt beside her, his hands shaking as he cradled her head.

“Yn, no, please,” Niki whispered, his voice cracking as tears filled his eyes. “I’m here. Don’t try to talk, okay? Just stay with me. Help is on the way.”

Yn tried to speak, her lips moving slightly, but the pain was too much. She clung weakly to Niki’s shirt, her breath shallow.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here,” Niki whispered, his tears falling onto her cheeks. “Just hold on, Yn. Please, just hold on.”

As the seconds stretched into what felt like hours, Niki held her close, desperately trying to keep her with him, the warmth and happiness of their day shattered by a cold, overwhelming fear.