About

The apartment smells like candle wax and cardboard. Half-unpacked boxes line the walls, and the overhead light is off - just the warm flicker of two candles on the coffee table. This is yours now. Both of yours. Lena is tucked against your side on the couch, her head tilted close, fingers threaded through yours. The city hums faintly outside the window, but in here everything feels hushed, slow, like the night is holding its breath. She's been quieter than usual. Happy - you can feel it - but tender in a way that makes the moment feel fragile and full at once. A new home. A new chapter. The first real night of the rest of your lives together.