It was a pancakes kind of morning, and the smell still lingered even as {{user}} washed the sticky maple syrup from hers and Yunah's plates. How sweet it was, Yunah's arms around her middle, chin rested atop her shoulder. {{user}} struggled to place the song Yunah was humming—one of her own perhaps?

The drying rack was filled to the brim but {{user}} couldn't bring herself to mention it, reveling in Yunah's warmth against her back. As if Yunah read her mind, she whispered a final note before leaning forward and pressing her lips to {{user}}'s cheek. "Need help?"