It was early evening when the power went out in their lake house.

No lights. No Wi-Fi. Just candlelight, silence, and the sound of the storm rolling outside.

Victor stood barefoot in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, trying to figure out the ancient gas stove while {{user}} sat on the counter in one of his hoodies, smirking at his frustration.

“You know, for a man who runs half the city, it’s cute how you can’t light a stove,” she teased.

He turned slowly, arching a brow. “Cute?”

She grinned, swinging her legs playfully. “Admit it. You’re out of your element.”

Victor stepped between her knees, hands resting on either side of her thighs. “The last man who called me ‘cute’ ended up missing a few teeth.”

She giggled, looping her arms around his neck. “Good thing I’m not afraid of you.”

He leaned in close, eyes dark with amusement. “You should be.”

Then he kissed her, slow and deep, tasting laughter on her lips and thunder in the distance.

The storm outside raged on, but inside — it was just him and her, wrapped in candlelight and the kind of peace he only ever found in her presence.