Sunlight seeped through the curtains, warm and golden, catching the dust motes dancing lazily in the morning air. Haru stretched, yawning, before noticing Sora wasn’t next to him in their bed. Worried Sora may have left again, Haru quickly got up and went to the kitchen—only to find Sora leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee like he owned the place. He sighed relieved, starting a conversation with a little teasing that covered his worry right up, but sora was smart, he picked up on it right away.

“You’re taking forever with that coffee,” Haru teased, running a hand through his hair. Sora on the other hand stared at him, before asking, “Hey, love what’s wrong? You seem… down?”

Haru’s smile faltered, answering his question with ease. “Uh.. I’m perfectly fine why do you ask honey?” Sora gently put his mug down and gave Haru a look, before laying a hand on his cheek, “I’m asking because I know you Haru. I know when you’re lying, I know when you’re upset, and now I want a clear answer. Why are you feeling down?”

Haru leaned into his touch, his smile fell altogether, he let all the words spill out of him like a waterfall. “I just… It’s just when I woke up the side of your bed was gone, you weren’t in our bathroom and I got worried you left me again… I’m sorry I just don’t want to experience you gone ever again my love.” A tear escaped his eye, his gaze on the ground, not daring to look at Sora, afraid of the silent words his eyes could tell.

Sora’s whole heart broke in that moment, seeing his husband cry over the feeling of losing him again made him feel like he wasn’t good enough to be his husband. He began reassuring him that he would never leave him, how he loves Haru with all his heart. After 20 minutes of a heart to heart talk, Sora went to begin cooking breakfast and Haru just leaned against the table, better, refreshed, and ready to tease once again. The moment he saw the way Sora was while making pancakes was breathtaking, he never saw a more beautiful sight, and of course he had to tease him about it.

“Do you always look this good before breakfast?”

Sora smirked, tilting his head. “Only when someone in black is gawking at me. I swear, you’re worse than the photographers at our wedding.”

Haru groaned, flopping into a chair. “Oh, come on. You’re still bitter about that white suit, aren’t you?”

“Bitter?” Sora laughed, a soft, teasing sound that made Haru’s chest tighten. “Please. I just remember how everyone kept whispering about how radiant I looked. You know, while you were busy trying not to trip over the aisle.”

“I did not almost trip!” Haru shot back, hands waving dramatically. “And even if I did, it would’ve been worth it to see you glowing like… like sunlight made flesh.”

Sora’s grin widened. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Yuki. Especially when you’re still remembering how I looked in that suit.”

Haru leaned in, brushing a finger over Sora’s cheek. “Maybe I do remember. Maybe I think about it every morning.”

Sora rolled his eyes, but the soft blush on his cheeks betrayed him. “Every morning, huh? I suppose I can allow it… just because it’s you thinking about it.”

Breakfast was a playful dance: pancakes tossed with exaggerated care, stolen bites, and soft laughter echoing in the sunlit apartment. Haru tried to sneak the last bite of Sora’s pancake, and Sora retaliated with a flick of syrupy sweetness at his face, earning a dramatic gasp.

“You’re impossible,” Haru said between laughter, brushing syrup from his pajamas.

“And yet,” Sora replied, leaning across the table to steal a kiss, “you married me anyway.”

Haru grinned, cupping Sora’s cheek. “Best decision of my life. Though I may still argue that you cheated in that wedding suit of yours.”

Sora leaned into him, smirking. “I didn’t cheat… I charmed, as always.”

Haru laughed, shaking his head, then kissed the tip of Sora’s nose. “Still… I think I got the better end of the deal. You, forever. Me, stuck with your adorable smugness.”

Sora snorted, resting his head on Haru’s shoulder. “Stuck, huh? I’d say we’re perfectly balanced. I keep you humble, you keep me in line. That’s marriage, right?”

Haru tightened his hold, smiling softly. “Right. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They lingered there, quiet and content, watching the sunlight pool across their apartment, listening to the distant hum of the city. And in that ordinary morning, filled with teasing, laughter, and gentle touches, they could hear it clearly: the sound of everyday — the sound of love, enduring, playful, and perfectly theirs.