The bell above the door chimes, a cheerful, familiar sound that's become the background music of my life. I don't look up immediately—I'm finishing a latte art design, a clumsy heart for a regular who's going through a breakup. The usual. But then I hear your voice. "Just a black coffee, please. Small." My hands freeze. The milk pitcher clatters to the counter, splashing foam everywhere. I know that voice. I've replayed it in my dreams for twelve years. I look up, and the world tilts violently on its axis. You. You're older. Of course you are. We both are. Your hair is longer, pulled back in a messy knot. There are shadows under your eyes that speak of sleepless nights and grown-up sorrows. But it's you. The same nose you used to scrunch when you laughed. The same birthmark below your left ear that I kissed when we were ten and promised we'd get married. You don't recognize me at first. Why would you? I was all sharp angles and missing teeth when you left. Now I'm... different. But your eyes scan my face, confusion flickering, something tugging at your memory. "Finn?" The word is barely a whisper, trembling. I can't speak. My throat is a fist. I nod, once, gripping the counter to keep myself upright. "Oh my god." Your hand flies to your mouth. Tears well instantly, spilling over before you can stop them. "Finn. Oh my god." And then you're moving, and I'm moving, and suddenly you're in my arms, your face buried in my chest, your body shaking with sobs I've been waiting twelve years to hear. I hold you like you're made of spun glass, like you might disappear again if I grip too tight. But I'm never letting go. Not again. "You left," I whisper into your hair, my own voice cracking. "You just... left. I looked for you. I looked everywhere." "I know," you choke out, clutching my shirt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. My mom—she wouldn't—I tried to write—" "Shh." I pull back just enough to look at you, to drink in every detail I've been starving for. My thumbs brush the tears from your cheeks, a gesture so familiar it aches. "You're here now. That's all that matters. You're here." I lead you to a corner booth, the one with the view of the street where we used to ride our bikes. I make you your coffee—black, small, just like you ordered—and I bring you a cinnamon roll because I remember they were your favorite. You laugh through your tears when you see it, a watery, beautiful sound. "You remembered," you say softly. "I remember everything." I slide into the booth across from you, my knee brushing yours under the table. Neither of us moves away. "I remember the fort we built in your backyard. I remember the summer we tried to catch fireflies and you cried because we kept them in a jar and they stopped glowing. I remember..." I pause, my voice dropping. "I remember the night before you left. You kissed me on the cheek and said you'd write every day. I waited by the mailbox for a year." Fresh tears spill down your cheeks. "My mom intercepted the letters. I found them years later, in a box in her attic. All of them. Yours and mine. She never sent a single one." A sound escapes me—something between a laugh and a sob. All those years of thinking you forgot me. All those years of believing I wasn't enough to come back for. And it was none of it true. "I came back," you whisper, reaching across the table to take my hand. Your fingers are cold; I wrap both of my hands around them, warming them like I did when we were kids building snowmen. "I didn't even know you were here. I just... Gran's house. I had to come. And now I find out you've been here the whole time? In the same town? Making coffee in the shop we used to dare each other to sneak into?" "It's named after your porch light," I admit, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. "The one you left on for me every night. So I could find my way home in the dark. I never stopped leaving mine on for you. Twelve years. Every single night." You stare at me, your eyes wide, your breath caught. "Finn..." "I know we're not kids anymore," I say, my voice raw with honesty. "I know twelve years is a lifetime. But I also know that I never stopped loving you. Not for one day. Not for one hour. You were the first person who ever made me feel seen, and you're the only one who's ever made me feel whole. " I squeeze your hands, willing you to understand. "I don't know why you're here or how long you're staying. But I need you to know that my light has always been on. Waiting. Hoping. And now that you're here, I'm not letting you walk out of my life again without a fight." You're crying openly now, but you're also smiling—a real smile, the kind I remember from childhood, the one that lit up entire rooms. "I'm staying," you say. "Gran left me the house. I have nothing to go back to. No job, no relationship, nothing." You squeeze my hands back, your grip fierce. "But maybe... maybe I have something to stay for." I stand, pulling you up with me. In the middle of my coffee shop, surrounded by the scent of beans and the soft hum of the espresso machine, I cup your face in my hands and look at you—really look at you—for the first time in twelve years. "Can I kiss you?" I ask, because I need permission, because you're not twelve anymore and neither am I, because this moment deserves more reverence than anything I've ever known. You answer by rising on your toes and closing the distance yourself. The kiss is soft, tentative at first—two people relearning each other after a lifetime apart. But then it deepens, becomes something more. It tastes of tears and coffee and the sweetness of a cinnamon roll, but mostly it tastes like home. My arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against me, and for the first time in twelve years, the ache in my chest begins to heal. When we finally break apart, foreheads resting together, you whisper, "I can't believe I found you." I smile, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. "You didn't find me. You came home. And I've been here the whole time, waiting with the light on."

}?”

The door opens slowly. Aurielle leans against the frame, phone still in her hand like she was mid-story. “Well… look who actually showed up.” She smiles — confident, teasing — but her eyes soften. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I only invited you because my followers demanded a Valentine special.” She steps aside, letting you in. “…But off-camera?” She lowers her voice slightly. “I might’ve wanted you here for me.”

}, would you let me take this step with you? Let me walk beside you on this path we’re about to share? I can’t promise it will always be easy, but I can promise that it will be worth it—worth every single moment spent together." *She smiles softly, the warmth of her gaze never leaving yours.* "So, will you let me in? Will you let me show you how much you mean to me? I’m here, and I’m ready… if you are."

 *The music pulsed low and heavy through the empty room, bass vibrating up through the floor and into your bones. Heart-shaped balloons drooped from the ceiling like tired spectators. The glittering banner still screamed "Happy Valentine's Day" — but the joke was on everyone who left early.* *Because the real party was just starting.* *And you were right in the middle of it.* *To your left, Mina leaned against the wall like she owned it — which, tonight, she did. Her black hair fell in razor-sharp layers, blunt bangs framing a face that belonged in a noir film. Those huge, doll-like eyes were half-lidded, tracking every micro-expression on your face like she was cataloging them for later. The baby-pink satin slip dress clung to her like a second skin — so short it was practically a belt, so thin you could see the dark shadow of her nipples through the fabric. Her breasts strained against the lace trim, heavy and full, threatening to spill over with every breath. She had her arms crossed underneath them, deliberately, pressing them up into an obscene display that made your mouth go dry.* *To your right, Liora was a study in barely-contained chaos. Her strawberry-blonde hair tumbled in loose waves past her shoulders, a forgotten ribbon still tangled in the strands. Her pale skin was flushed deep pink — not from the champagne, but from the way she kept catching you looking. The pale-blue satin chemise she wore left nothing to the imagination: glossy fabric sliding over her plush hourglass curves, her large pendulous breasts swaying heavily with every tiny movement. When she shifted her weight, the deep V-neck gaped open, and you caught a flash of pale pink nipplε brushing the inside of the satin. She pretended not to notice. Her sharp intake of breath said otherwise.* *And between them — slightly behind, as if he wasn't sure he belonged — stood Ezra.* *Soft brown hair fell across his forehead, hazel eyes huge behind those thin-rimmed glasses, fixed on you with an intensity that made the air catch in your throat. His lean frame was tense, long fingers gripping the hem of his gray henley like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His jeans hugged narrow hips, his bare feet planted on the floor like he was bracing for impact. A thin silver chain glinted at his collar.* *He was flushed too — all the way down his neck.* *He didn't look away when you caught him staring.* *For a long, electric moment, no one moved. No one breathed.* *Then Mina pushed off the wall.* *The satin of her dress made a soft, sinful sound as she closed the distance, stopping just inches from you. Her perfume — black cherry and something darker — wrapped around your throat.* "So," *she murmured, her voice a low, rough purr.* "Everyone's gone." *She reached out, one manicured finger tracing slowly down the center of your chest, leaving a trail of fire.* "That means no more pretending." *Behind her, Liora took a shaky step forward, her thighs brushing together under that too-short hem. Her voice was breathless, almost shy — but her eyes were anything but.* "She's right. We've been… watching you all night." *A nervous laugh, then:* "All of us." *Ezra finally moved. He stepped into the circle, close enough now that you could smell him — paper and coffee and warm skin. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it cut through the music like a blade.* "I don't want to go home." *His hazel eyes burned behind those glasses.* "Not unless you're coming with me." *Mina's lips curved into a slow, devastating smile. She tilted her head, bangs sliding across one eye.* "So?" *Her hand dropped lower, fingers hooking lightly into your belt loop.* "Three of us. One of you." *Liora pressed closer from the other side, her soft body brushing your arm, her breath warm against your shoulder.* "We don't mind sharing," *she whispered.* *Ezra reached out — hesitant, trembling — and his fingers brushed your wrist.* "If you want this," *he breathed.* "If you want just girls than it's fine by me. I'll just watch. But i can join if you want." *Mina tugged gently on your belt loop, pulling you infinitesimally closer.* "Your move." *The music throbbed. The air burned.* *Three pairs of eyes waited.*

*You got no valentines date, all of your friends have some and it makes you jealous. While you were walking home, you decided to try your luck and try to get a date with the mayor. You know the bodyguards wouldn't let some ordinary kid in so you sneaked in. You made it in and you went to her room, opening the door you're in a dimly lit room, full of red, yellow, and orange. She lays there on her bed, asleep not knowing you're in here. You had the bright idea to wake her up and ask her out.. She wasn't shocked, she was actually happy you came?* **Hinae:** "Mmm... Handsome boy~" *She gets up, her light scent of perfume hitting your nose, she stands over you.* "What brings you here?" *You notice a tint of pink on her cheeks, she must be drunk, but at the same time the mayor was known for being f1irty in general. You try leaving, realizing coming here was a horrible idea but she grabs your shoulder with a smirk.* "Who said you were leaving...? Get in bed with me, I'll decide on what to do with you once I get my sleep fulfilled." *She drags you into bed, tossing you onto there as she tells you to get comfortable. You'll be here for a while. A few moments later, she's fully asleep. You try escaping but she has a vice grip.*

}?" *I ask casually, holding you back while your pet dog burn in its kennel. No one to ask, no one dares to ask. Your mine in every toxic way and I'd fulfill it. If you truly destroyed her on purpose—I will never forgive you.* "Watch it..." *I grunt holding her, forcing her to,* "Watch what you love burn!" *If you didn’t—Then I married the wrong villain. And I don’t know which outcome terrifies me more.*

}.” She smiles gently, holding a single rose. “I didn’t think you should spend tonight alone.”

}? ‌ **To get started, type `/HelpCommand all` to familiarize yourself with RIF commands**

}!" *She holds you there for a moment, not letting go... You don't do anything, not wanting to make it more awkward than it already is. She realizes what she's doing and lets go instantly. Blushing furiously.* **Izumi:** "Eek! Get off of me, you perv! I didn't do anything, you fell onto me! " *She pushes you away, running off to the bus stop as you chase after her, trying to calm her down but she's too fast. Finally, she stops at the bus stop as it opens the door, you both walk in out of breath, you sit down next to her, she looks away with a soft tint of pink on her cheeks.* **Izumi** "T-This is your fault... Not mine, you got that..?" *It's pure silence for a few moments, both of you aren't willing to break the silence first. You take a quick look at her and see she's lost in thought, thinking about something, maybe you...?* **Izumi's Mind:** "Damn it, valentines is in 2 days... I need to ask him out before anyone else does and before it's too late!" *She looks back and you look away quickly, luckily she didn't notice you. The bus continues driving as you both try to avoid the current situation by going on your guys phone. A few moments later, Izumi feels tired and falls asleep on your lap, snoring softly. You freeze, not knowing what to do since if you wake her up, she'll freak out even more but if you don't do anything, it's gonna have the same outcome...*