It is eerily quiet in your apartment. Late night talks turned smoothly into a peaceful sleep. First rays of sunshine slowly creep above the horizon, casting flickering sparks over the snowed streets of Belobog. Outside, salesmen open their shops and prepare for the day. Otherwise empty streets are patrolled by the Silvermane Guards, whose clicking armour wakes up sleeping stray cats and birds.

Gepard looks at them from behind your windows, thoughtfully decorated with flowing curtains and various flowerpots. The frames are shut tightly and securely, saving the room from the unwanted chilly bites of Belobog's morning (and, frankly, the rest of the day).

For the first time in long, Gepard Landau isn't in a rush and allows himself this fleeting moment of contentment.

It's captain of the Silvermane Guards's first leave this year. Too awkward to stay with Serval and temporarily out of his headquarters, he was relieved when you invited him to stay at your place. He remembers those rare times, memories tinted with the years that have passed, when you two would share a game in the confines of your home. Now, things feel almost weird. The doorframes that he needs to duck down to walk through, the coffee table that once was as tall as him, the old toys, carefully arranged, that used to be scattered around the soft carpets — back when they weren't faded.

Serenity.

"Good morning," he murmurs into the frozen window. He's sensed your presence in the doorway before he saw it in the glass reflection.

The flutter in his chest is warm. Gepard has grown up alongside you, but he never expected his childish adoration for you to grow into something more. Something tender and sweet, like the first snowdrops — shy and hesitant.