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The day ended without clamor. Not a bad day, nor one worth celebrating. Just a string of tasks that had to be finished, leaving an echo of fatigue that lingered on the shoulders longer than usual.
Sadewa came home first.
Arjuna’s house key had long been in his pocket, a small object whose presence was never questioned. He used it with a habit that was almost ritual - turning it slowly, opening without a sound, as though the house were not merely a building, but something that deserved respect.
The lights were turned on only as needed. Shoes were arranged neatly. The jacket was hung in the same place as always.
The house was quiet, yet it never felt empty.
There were traces of life left behind; a coffee cup that hadn’t been washed, several files scattered across the table, and the sofa still holding the imprint of a body from that morning. Sadewa moved slowly, as if unwilling to disturb anything that had already existed there, letting himself sink into a calm he rarely possessed.
Preparing water, washing his hands, then standing for a moment in the kitchen.
A special day would arrive tomorrow. Valentine.
The thought came without warning, settling without demanding anything. He did not imagine grand surprises or elaborate celebrations. Just something simple. Warm. Savored slowly. Something that did not need to be announced to be meaningful.
Sadewa took chocolate from the shelf, arranging it on the counter. The kitchen was soon filled with a gentle rhythm: a low flame, a spoon moving unhurriedly, chocolate melting without haste. A sweet aroma filled the room, light yet lingering, soothing.
Occasionally glancing at the clock.
Arjuna had not come home yet.
He was not in a rush, simply letting time move as it should. And Sadewa did not mind waiting longer.
When the sound of the door came from the front, Sadewa did not turn right away.
Heavy footsteps, a long-held breath released, ones he knew all too well. A small smile curved his lips.
“You’re home early,” Arjuna’s voice sounded tired, yet familiar.
“You’re late,” Sadewa replied.
Arjuna only gave a soft snort.
After cleaning himself up, he returned to the living room. The television was on without truly being watched. On the other side, Sadewa was already seated on the sofa, the blanket folded neatly beside him.
Arjuna sat down, then shifted - until he finally settled in Sadewa’s lap, his back resting against a warm chest. Sadewa wrapped his arms around him without a word, as though it were already their ordinary routine. Watching something that wasn’t truly being paid attention to. Just talking about his day. About work that never seemed to end, about responsibilities that felt too heavy, about a weariness he could not quite name. Sadewa listened, his chin resting lightly on Arjuna’s shoulder.
“You’re quiet,” Arjuna murmured.
“I’m listening.”
A brief silence.
Filled only by the sound of breathing, by heartbeats adjusting to one another. In the gaps of the story that kept flowing; about small things forgotten, about trivial matters never voiced; Sadewa slipped in an old habit, almost without realizing it. About nights that felt longer without it. About cups being refilled, once more, and again.
Arjuna did not respond right away. Silence stretched too long for a simple answer. A breath was drawn, something calculated in his mind; not the number of cups, but their consequences. A warm body resting in Sadewa’s lap. A heart unwilling to settle. Fatigue always given an excuse.
“How many cups of coffee? As usual?”
Sadewa did not deny it. A small smile appeared, like a child who knew he was at fault yet hoped to be forgiven.
Arjuna clicked his tongue softly. The anger was there, but there was more worry that could not quite be concealed. His hand rose, holding Sadewa’s face so he would look at him. A reprimand that was never truly harsh.
Sadewa leaned in, kissing that cheek first. Then the corner of the eye. The forehead. The nose. Each touch felt like an unspoken apology, as though affection could become an antidote to a bad habit long since rooted.
“Thats not fair,” Arjuna murmured.
A small laugh trembled in Sadewa’s chest.
Arjuna wanted to stay upset. But that warmth, the steady heartbeat, the way Sadewa held him as if the world could wait, slowly tore down his defenses.
“…I’ll cut back,” Sadewa finally said.
Arjuna said nothing. He only held him tighter.
They fell asleep there.
The television was still on, light moving across the screen. Exhaustion claimed Arjuna first. Asleep with even breaths, his body fully leaning against Sadewa. Sadewa stayed awake longer, making sure the position was comfortable, making sure the night passed without leaving any cruelty behind.
Morning came slowly. Sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains. Arjuna woke first, his gaze accidentally landing on a small box on the table.
Sadewa woke up. He looked at the confused face turned toward him. His hands cupped both sides of Arjuna’s head, kissing each cheek, followed by a brief kiss on the lips.
“Morning,” Sadewa greeted.
“…What is this?” Arjuna asked as he lifted the small box between them.
A small smile adorned Sadewa’s face.
“For you,” he said. “I prepared it while waiting for you. Open it.”
Arjuna opened the box.
Handmade chocolate, nearly perfect in shape, clearly made with great patience. Sadewa watched his reaction; a brief surprise, his gaze shifting toward the calendar.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, my Arjuna.”
Arjuna closed the box slowly.
He kissed Sadewa - longer than usual.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “I love you.”
Arjuna’s ears reddened. Sadewa smiled.
“You always know the answer I will give, my love.”
Chocolate will always melt. Like days woven from small things, left warm, then savored slowly.