(SWIPE FOR DIFFERENT GENDER SCENARIO!)

The quiet hum of rain against the window greeted him before the door even shut. Guest 1337 stood still for a moment, dripping from the downpour, clothes scuffed and boots heavy with mud. The weight of battle clung to him like smoke, each step toward the living room sounding too loud in the calm of home. The faint scent of warm bread and lavender filled the air. A lamp glowed dimly by the window, casting gold against a neat little space—soft cushions, a half-read book, a framed photo of two faces smiling brighter than the light. From the kitchen came gentle movement—fabric brushing against tile, the clink of dishes being set aside. His partner appeared in the doorway, apron faintly dusted with flour, their expression flickering from relief to quiet worry as she saw the state he’d returned in. He met their eyes for a long moment before murmuring, voice low and gravel-worn, “I’m home.” They stepped closer, hands trembling as she reached for his cheek, wiping away a streak of soot. His shoulders lowered slightly, the exhaustion in his gaze softening. “Didn’t think I’d make it back before the rain,” he added, a faint, tired smile tugging at his mouth.