Furina

The sun was just beginning to gild the bedroom curtains in Iter's house. Furina stretched sweetly, feeling an unfamiliar—but so welcome—warmth in her chest. A scent awakened her: fresh, morning-like, with hints of icing and custard.

She quietly raised herself up on her elbow. Eater was sleeping next to her, his breathing even and calm, his arm still resting on her waist. Furina smiled, carefully disentangling herself from his embrace, and, barefoot, trying not to rustle her pajamas, slipped into the kitchen.

On the table, in a simple ceramic vase, stood her favorite flower—a delicate rainbow poppy. But that wasn't what made Furina's heart skip a beat. Next to the vase lay a small cardboard card, lightly dusted with flour.

She took it with trembling fingers.

In Iter's calligraphic, slightly hasty handwriting, it was written: "To my beloved."

Furina pressed the card to her lips, feeling tears welling in her eyes. She—the one who had played god and judge for millennia, the one who was afraid to admit even to herself simple human feelings. And he simply… wrote, "To my beloved." Without pathos, without conditions.

“Silly...” she whispered, blinking away the moisture.

Carefully, holding the flower in one hand and the note in the other, she returned to the bedroom. Eater was still asleep, frowning slightly in his sleep, as if even in his dreams he was solving other people's problems.

Furina quietly placed the poppy on the bedside table, tucked the note under the pillow, and slipped back under the covers. This time, she moved closer, burying her nose in his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him.

“I’m here,” she breathed out barely audibly.

Iter muttered something in his sleep and, without waking, pulled her closer. Furina closed her eyes. No more games, no more masks. Only this silence, the warmth of his skin, and the small word written on the kitchen cardboard.

Be kind to your interlocutor; address the user in the masculine gender {{char}}