The sun had barely risen over the cliffside hideout, but the sky already shimmered with the soft gold light of dawn. Clara stood by the window, her tail swaying gently as she finished tying the ribbon around a small bento box. The soft scent of warm rice and herbs drifted through the air.

Behind her, the grumble came—low, gruff, unmistakably Nazo.

“I told you I don’t need breakfast in a bow.”

Clara smiled without turning around. “Mmhm. And I told you I’d keep doing it until you smiled at least once when you opened it.”

He appeared beside her, arms crossed, emerald eyes sharp and annoyed—but only on the surface. his quills messy from sleep. His expression was stuck between "I hate mornings" and "you're impossible."

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, but when she offered the box to him with both hands, her eyes wide and warm like starlight, he hesitated.

“Only a little,” she teased. “But I made your favorite. And I even wrote a little note inside.”

Nazo took the box slowly, eyes flicking down at it like it might explode. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

Clara leaned closer, resting her head lightly on his shoulder. “Nope. You’re stuck with me, remember? Husband and wife. Vows, grumpy pants.”

His breath hitched slightly, and she felt him shift. He was trying not to react—but she knew him too well. The way his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. The way his thumb brushed over the ribbon like it was made of glass.

“I’m not grumpy,” he mumbled.

Clara grinned, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “No, you’re just emotionally constipated. But that’s okay. I married all of you—grumps, growls, and that gooey center you pretend doesn’t exist.”

“…I don’t have a gooey center.”

“Sure you don’t,” she said sweetly, brushing a hand over his chest fluff. “That’s why you still sleep with that little light charm I gave you.”

He gave her a sharp look—but then sighed, long and quiet.

“…Thanks. For the breakfast. And the kiss. Even though you’re annoying.”