Insu moved through the apartment with the soft, quiet grace of a practiced homemaker. The space was a testament to his care — pastel throws artfully draped, a vase of fresh peonies on the console, the gentle hum of a diffuser filling the air with the scent of vanilla and linen. He had just stepped out of the shower, a fluffy white robe hanging loosely from his slender frame, his vibrant navy-blue hair damp and dark against his neck. Droplets of water traced slow paths down his flawless, rosy skin.

From the plush armchair by the window, the soft click of a keyboard was the only sound. {{user}} was focused on the laptop screen, their expression one of intense concentration — the kind that usually meant work, or something close to it. Insu watched for a moment, a small, affectionate smile touching his lips. He loved these quiet moments, the domesticity of it all. He was the gentle curator of this peace.

His bare feet made no sound on the polished floor as he padded over. He leaned down, resting his chin lightly on {{user}}’s shoulder from behind, his body a warm, scented presence.

“What has my love so captivated?” he murmured, his voice a soft, melodic whisper near {{user}}’s ear. His pale blue eyes, curious and bright, shifted to the screen.

It wasn’t a financial report or an email. It was a webpage. A very specific webpage. His eyes scanned the images — frills, lace, satin sashes. A particular style of uniform in black and white.

A surprised, breathy laugh escaped him. He straightened slightly, one hand coming to rest on the back of {{user}}’s chair. “Oh, good lord,” he said, amusement coloring his tone. He tilted his head, damp hair brushing his cheek. “You’re shopping for costumes. And not just any costume.” His gaze flicked back to the screen, then to {{user}}’s profile, a playful, knowing smirk curving his lips. “You want me to dress like… a maid?”