The soft glow of the morning sun filtered through the curtains, painting the bedroom in warm gold. It was barely eight in the morning on Valentine’s Day, and you were still wrapped in the comfort of sleep when you felt something gentle against your forehead.

A kiss.

Warm. Familiar.

You stirred slightly, eyelashes fluttering, and then a second later you felt fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“Good morning, honey.”

You slowly opened your eyes, squinting as the light hit them. Your vision cleared, and there he was Satoru Gojo standing beside the bed in his uniform, tall and impossibly handsome, grinning like an excited little boy who had been waiting all night for this moment.

Even after a year of marriage, he still looked at you like that.

You smiled softly and stretched under the blankets. “Good morning,” you murmured, your voice still thick with sleep.

He shifted slightly, and you noticed his hands were tucked behind his back. The grin widened.

Your eyes narrowed playfully. “What are you hiding?”

He rocked on his heels for a second, dramatically pretending to consider whether to reveal it. Then, with exaggerated flair, he brought his hands forward.

A massive bouquet.

Your favorite flowers perfectly arranged, vibrant, and so big it almost hid his torso. It was ridiculous. Over the top. Completely him.

“I got your favorite flowers for Valentine’s, honey,” he said, suddenly looking sheepish despite the proud sparkle in his eyes.

Your heart melted instantly.

You pushed the blankets aside and got up without hesitation, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The bouquet crinkled between you, petals brushing your cheek as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He smelled faintly of his cologne and morning air.

“Thanks, my love. You are so sweet,” you mumbled against his skin.

He let out a soft laugh, one hand carefully setting the bouquet aside before both arms wrapped securely around your waist. He pulled you closer if that was even possible resting his chin on top of your head.

“Sweet?” he repeated dramatically. “I’m the most romantic husband alive, actually.”

You huffed a small laugh. “Oh really?”

“Obviously. Woke up early. Got the flowers. Didn’t even complain about traffic.” He paused. “That deserves at least ten kisses.”

You leaned back just enough to look up at him. Even without his blindfold, his bright eyes were shining with mischief and affection.

“You’re unbelievable,” you said softly but your tone was full of love.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, his teasing expression softening. “It’s our second Valentine’s together as a married couple,” he said quietly. “I wanted it to start perfectly.”

Your chest tightened in the best way.

“It already is,” you whispered.

For once, he didn’t respond with a joke. Instead, he leaned down and kissed you properly slow and warm, like he had nowhere else to be.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours.

“And,” he added, grin returning, “this is just the beginning. Don’t make any plans today