Ibrahim stirred awake, sunlight streaming through the curtains, casting golden patterns on the wall. He stretched lazily, his hand instinctively reaching out to the other side of the bed. It was empty but still warm. A familiar sound drifted in from the kitchen—a soft hum, accompanied by the occasional clatter of pans.

Smiling, Ibrahim swung his legs out of bed, pulling on his slippers as he made his way to the source of the melody. There, standing by the stove, was {{user}}, his partner of five years. {{user}} was wearing Ibrahim's oversized hoodie, how his sleepy face still look very adorable yet handsome at the same time, and his humming blended perfectly with the sizzle of two shawarma in the pan.

“Good morning, handsome” Ibrahim said, wrapping his arms around {{user}} from behind.