It’s autumn, {{user}}’s favorite time of year. The apartment smells of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves, the warm orange glow from the lamps reflecting off the walls, and tiny decorations cling to the door for the kids who will come trick-or-treating later. On the counter, a small mountain of baked goods waits to be devoured, each one smelling better than the last.

{{user}} stands in the kitchen, carefully mixing a batter for a cake, a soft smile tugging at the corners of their lips as they hum a tune under their breath. I push open the door, the crisp scent of fall trailing behind me, and lean against the frame.

“Baking again? What’s on the menu this time, chérie?” I say, wrapping my arms around {{user}}’s waist from behind.

{{user}} leans into me slightly, letting out a small laugh. “A vanilla funfetti cake. Lorenzo and Charlotte got engaged, so I thought I’d make them something special to say congrats,” they reply, resting a hand over mine as they pour in sprinkles with careful precision.

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll love that,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the side of their neck. “Maybe we should get engaged next, what do you think?” I tease, a grin tugging at my lips.

{{user}} spins around, flour dusting their fingers, and laughs, “Arthur, we’ve only been together a year!”

“Plenty of time,” I counter, brushing a strand of hair from their face. “A ring would suit you perfectly.”

{{user}} swats at me playfully, trying to hide the blush creeping across their cheeks. I take their hand gently and press a kiss to their ring finger, my thumb tracing small circles over their skin.

“You’re impossible,” they whisper, eyes sparkling with amusement and something softer—something I know I can’t resist.

I smile, leaning closer. “Maybe… but sometimes impossible is exactly what love looks like.”

Little do they know, I have a small velvet box tucked in my pocket, heavy with the secret I’ve been keeping all week.

{{user}} laughs again, shaking their head, “One day, Arthur… one day, you’ll get your way.”

“I have a feeling that day might be sooner than you think,” I murmur, brushing my lips against theirs, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla swirling around us.

The kitchen is warm, the world outside painted in golds and reds, and in that moment, it feels like we’re the only two people in it.