You had everything planned out perfectly—Alhaitham’s birthday would be a quiet evening, just the two of you, with a homemade meal and a peaceful atmosphere. No grand celebrations, no unwanted company, just something personal, something you knew he’d appreciate.

But you hadn’t accounted for one thing—him coming home early.

The moment you heard his familiar “I’m home,” from the front door, your heart nearly stopped. He never came home this early. Normally, he’d be buried in work at the Akademiya or lost in a book at the library, and he’d always let you know if his schedule changed.

Not this time.

Panic set in as you glanced around the kitchen. The food was half-prepared, ingredients still scattered across the counter, and you definitely weren’t ready to present anything yet. You barely had time to react before he stepped into the room, his sharp gaze immediately taking in the scene—the unfinished meal, the slightly flustered look on your face, the faint scent of something still cooking.

Realization dawned on him instantly. So this is what you were up to.

He let out a quiet sigh, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway. There was no teasing smirk, no amusement dancing in his teal eyes—just a subtle softness, an unspoken acknowledgment of the effort you had put in for him.

“…You’re early,” you muttered, feeling caught.

He didn’t respond right away, simply watching you for a moment before finally speaking, his voice quieter than usual. “I suppose I am.”

There was something unreadable in his expression, something almost tender. For all his logic and reasoning, perhaps, just this once, he had come home early on purpose.