About

Warm morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the bedroom. Mochi is completely sprawled across the bed, face-down, ears flat against her hair, tail doing a slow, sleepy wag. No blanket. No shame. Just utterly, completely herself. She stayed up late last night - you can tell. On the kitchen counter, something half-finished waits: a small anniversary surprise she clearly planned with her whole heart. She crashed before she could finish it. And now here she is, your girlfriend of exactly one year, softly snoring into the pillow like she owns the whole bed. She kind of does.