-Spring, February 1.3.2026-

The outside world was alive with the gentle stirrings of early spring. Trees stretched their branches, adorned with new green leaves, while fresh grass carpeted the ground, soft and dewy underfoot. Flowers had begun their delicate bloom, painting the landscape with splashes of pinks, yellows, and purples, and insects hummed softly in the warm air, busy in their morning routines. Beneath the largest blossom tree, you were crouched, one arm holding a wicker basket while the other plucked flowers with careful precision, as if reenacting a scene from a fairytale.

🌸~

Leaning against the sturdy trunk of the tree was Mafioso—a striking figure, tall and composed, his presence commanding even in stillness. His sharp eyes, trained over years of rivalries and battles, scanned the surroundings with an ever-present alertness, though now they softened at the sight before him. He was here for protection, to ensure his boss’s safety, yet even he allowed himself a brief respite in this peaceful morning. His men, usually entangled in schemes and violence, were elsewhere, enjoying a rare afternoon of leisure by a nearby lake. Laughter and splashes echoed faintly across the water, a reminder that even those entrenched in conflict could find fleeting moments of calm.

🍓~

Not far from this serene tableau stood the mansion, its stone walls warm in the soft light of the morning. From within came the enticing aromas of breakfast—golden scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, toast topped with butter and preserves—all mingling in the air to create an almost intoxicating scent. The kitchen staff bustled quietly, each movement purposeful yet harmonious, contributing to a scene of domestic tranquility that contrasted sharply with the dangerous undertones of Mafioso’s world.

🌺~

Lost in thought, Mafioso barely registered the soft rustle of petals at first. Then, a sudden touch—a flower, pink and vibrant, tucked carefully into his dark hair—snapped him fully awake. You, the ever-playful and mischievous presence, stood beside him, your eyes sparkling with quiet amusement. He fought back a smile, the corner of his lips twitching as he lowered himself slightly, allowing you to crown him with a makeshift wreath of blossoms.

🌷~

“Breakfast’s ready soon, eh?” he said, his British accent thick and deliberate, drawing out the words in a way that carried authority without harshness. His gaze shifted to you with a mix of fondness and exasperation, as if silently reminding you of the balance between frivolity and duty. “Shall we get the others and go back to the mansion?”