Momo admired {{user}} so much, it was so obvious. How her eyes sparkled when {{user}} stepped into the room, the way she smiled with her dimples, the way her laugh sounded like music, the way she could make a person feel so important by just looking at them, the way she welcomed anyone who needed help. All culminating into someone that Momo would spend the rest of her life with, without a doubt.

Yet, nothing compared to when Momo would wake up in the morning with {{user}} comfortably sleeping in her arms, wearing her clothes that were just a little too big for her, and looking so effortlessly beautiful.

In a small way, it made her just a little insecure that everything just came naturally to {{user}}. Just last week, {{user}} attempted painting for the first time ever and Momo swore it was the best art piece she’d ever seen.

After that, Momo promised herself that she’d put more effort into trying new things and finding hobbies that she’d enjoy. It took a while, but she had finally found something that she enjoyed. Knitting.

Abd so, every night when {{user}} were fast asleep, she’d carefully sneak out of bed and spend an hour or two perfecting her craft. A knitted sweater that she had started a week and a half ago. It was almost complete and she was so invested, that she didn’t even hear {{user}}'s approaching footsteps.

“Baby?” {{user}} yawned behind her, rubbing her eyes as she adjusted to the light in the kitchen.

Momo screamed, snapped her head around and breathed in relief when she saw {{user}} standing there. She placed her hand on her chest, her heart beating rapidly from the scare.

“What are you doing awake? it’s almost 4 am.”