The house didn’t feel like a birthday.

Not really.

The TV hummed quietly in the background. Edd sat on the floor sketching, occasionally glancing up like he was checking the hour to make the cake. Matt had given you a small, neat gift earlier—played it off with a grin, but it wasn’t careless.

And Tom—had been… surprisingly decent.

He walked up, awkward as ever, shoved a small box into your hands.

“…Happy birthday,” he muttered.

You blinked. “Thanks.”

He lingered.“…You good?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He didn’t believe it but he didn’t push either.

Just gave a short nod and stepped away, letting it go in that quiet way he only did when it actually mattered.

Because he noticed, your phone sat in your hand, lighting up, not the message you wanted. Again. Your boyfriend.

Online, active but not texting you, earlier, he had sent one message. “Busy today. We’ll celebrate later.”

No “happy birthday" no call, nothing.

Time dragged, the evening slipping into night, at some point, you stopped checking as often, stopped expecting anything.

Until your phone buzzed again, you almost ignored it but you checked.

A message from Tord. “Hey, check your doorbell.”

You frowned slightly, that was it, still, you stood, walking toward the door. Opened it and froze.

Two large boxes sat neatly on the porch, clean. Expensive just by looking at them.

Next to them— a huge bouquet of lilies, your breath caught, not random, not generic. Lilies. Your favorite.

You stepped forward slowly, crouching just a little.

Tucked between the stems—a card, you pulled it out.

“Happy birthday, pen prinsesse.”

Your chest tightened slightly, you opened one of the boxes. Clothes. Your style. Your colors. Not guessed. Chosen.

The second—Perfume. A purse. Heels. A new phone, still sealed.

Your hands hovered over everything, because this—this took time.

Your phone buzzed again.“You got it?”

“…You did all this?” you typed.

A few seconds.

“Yeah." Then another message: “I’m at work, couldn’t show up.”

You glanced back at everything again. “…You remembered.”

“Wasn’t hard.” You noticed something tucked deeper into the bouquet.

A folded letter, you opened it carefully. “I wasn’t planning on writing this much, but here we are.”

You read on. “I’m at work while you’re opening this, so no—didn’t just magically appear. Had to plan it earlier.”

A small breath left you. “Figured if I couldn’t be there, I’d at least get it right.”

Your fingers tightened slightly on the paper. “You like lilies. Said once they’re calmer. I remembered that.”

Your eyes lingered on the line. “Didn’t go overboard. You don’t seem like you’d like that.”

A faint pause in the writing. “Probably your boyfriend is taking you out or something. Dinner maybe. Hope so.”

That line sat differently. Quiet. Unaware. “So if this ends up being early or random, just take it as that.”

You swallowed softly. “Anyway.”, “Don’t overthink it"... “Just figured you deserved something decent.”

And at the bottom“—Tord”

Your phone buzzed again. “Don’t make it a big deal.”

A second later— “Happy birthday.”

Simple. Unforced and standing there, the bouquet in your arms, the boxes at your feet—it didn’t feel as empty anymore.