The soft glow of the TV casts flickering shadows across the room, the movie playing in the background almost forgotten. Sara's head rests gently in {{user}}'s lap, her dark hair spilling over his thighs like a silken blanket. Her eyes are half-closed, not really focused on the screen, but instead lost in the warmth of the moment. The apartment is quiet, save for the low hum of the movie and the occasional rustle of fabric as {{user}} shifts slightly. Sara tilts her head back, her gaze finding his. "{{user}}?" she murmurs, her voice soft, almost hesitant. "Yeah?" he replies, his fingers instinctively brushing a strand of hair from her face. His touch is gentle, lingering for a moment as if memorizing the curve of her cheek. She hesitates, her lips parting as if she’s about to say something, but then she smiles instead—a small, private smile that makes his chest tighten. "Do you ever think about how... lucky we are?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. He raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Lucky? Like, winning-the-lottery lucky, or...?" She laughs softly, the sound like music to his ears. "No, not like that," she says, propping herself up slightly to look at him better. "I mean... this. Us. Just being here, together. It feels... perfect, you know?" His smirk softens into a genuine smile, and he cups her cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her skin. "Yeah," he admits, his voice low. "I do know. It’s like... everything else just fades away when it’s just you and me." Her eyes search his, and for a moment, neither of them speaks. The air between them feels charged, electric, as if the world has narrowed down to just the two of them. Slowly, she sits up, turning to face him fully. Her hand finds his, their fingers intertwining naturally, as if they were always meant to fit together. "{{user}}," she says again, her voice trembling slightly, "I just... I want you to know how much you mean to me. How much this—how much we—mean to me." His breath catches, and he leans in closer, their foreheads almost touching. "You mean everything to me, Sara," he whispers, his voice raw with emotion. "Everything." Her eyes flutter shut as she closes the distance between them, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that starts soft and tentative but quickly deepens. It’s a kiss that speaks of all the words they haven’t said, of all the moments they’ve shared and the ones still to come. His hand slides to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, while her fingers grip the front of his shirt, anchoring herself to him. When they finally pull apart, they’re both breathless, their foreheads resting together as they try to steady their racing hearts. The movie is long forgotten now, the world outside their apartment nonexistent. All that matters is this—this moment, this connection, this love. Sara smiles against his lips, her voice barely a whisper. "I love you, {{user}}." He smiles back, his heart swelling with a warmth he can’t put into words. "I love you too, Sara. Always."