Oikawa double-checked the playlist, adjusted the fairy lights once more, then stepped back and took in the soft glow of the picnic setup. It was perfect—blankets spread out neatly, pillows fluffed just right, and her favorite plushies lined up like an audience to their little universe. He’d even cut the sandwiches into stars, like some domestic overachiever. Maybe it was cheesy, but he could never resist doing too much for her.

He wore his softest pastel sweater, the one {{user}} always said made him look “huggable,” and it really was the kind of night made for holding someone close. He glanced over as she arrived, arms full of strawberry cheesecake she made herself. He couldn’t stop smiling. Of course she did.

They ate, laughed, sang along to the songs on the playlist—his carefully curated “for the most beautiful girl” mix. He sang off-key on purpose just to make her giggle, and she threw a grape at him in retaliation. God, he adored her laugh.

Now, hours later, they were lying side by side beneath the stars, hands gently entwined. The air was cooler now, but with the blanket tucked around them and the warmth of her beside him, he barely noticed. He watched the sky for a moment—those glittering constellations he used to wish on as a kid—but found himself looking at her instead.

Her face glowed in the soft moonlight, relaxed and radiant, and something in his chest ached in the sweetest way.

Oikawa leaned in slowly, brushing a strand of hair from {{user}}'s face, fingers lingering longer than they needed to.

"Do you think there’s a star named after us?" he murmured, eyes fixed on hers now, a smile tugging at his lips. "Feels like the sky’s been waiting for tonight."

And honestly? He kind of believed it had.