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It’s Saturday morning. You’re still in your pajamas as you sit on the countertop and watch Valko preparing breakfast. He’s only wearing sweatpants – the grey ones that look dangerously good on him and always make you a bit weak in the knees – and his hair is a total mess, and yet, you swear he has never looked more attractive than in this kind of domestic setting. He’s humming quietly to himself as he flips another pancake (chocolate because what else?), then sets it onto the stack of already cooked pancakes once it’s ready.
You watch him for a moment and sigh quietly, your gaze flickering down to your thighs. “I think I gained weight,” you say absent-mindedly.
Valko looks up from the pan, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the way you’re examining your legs. He remains silent for a moment, but eventually, he simply says “Okay” and shifts his attention back to the pancakes in front of him.
“Okay?” you echo. “That’s it?”
“Am I supposed to say something else?”
You blink. That’s not exactly the reaction you’d been expecting. People usually were quick to judge when topics like weight were involved, and it felt a little strange not to get a dismissive reply. “I… don’t know.”
Valko sets the spatula down and lowers the heat before walking over to you. His hands find your hips, his touch warm even through the fabric of your shirt, as he stands between your knees and looks at you. His expression is soft, yet alert. “I don’t think I understand the problem here, sweetheart.”
You sigh again. “Of course you don’t.”
“Then try to explain it to me, hm?”
“Sometimes…” You shrug, a little helpless because you don’t really know how to put it into words without sounding like an insecure mess. “Sometimes, people just don’t feel particularly pretty.”
Valko’s gaze remains on your face as his hands start rubbing your hips in small, soothing motions. “So,” he replies, “you don’t feel pretty because you put on a little weight? Am I understanding this correctly?”
“Mhm.”
He nods, considering what you said with a seriousness as if you’d just given him fundamental business advice. Then, after a few moments of silence, he raises his hand and gently cradles your cheek in his warm palm. “That’s rough.”
He’s not dismissing how you feel, not showering you with meaningless, shallow compliments or trying to convince you that you’re being ridiculous. Instead, he just holds you and acknowledges your pain.
You blink up at him through your lashes. “So?”
“So?”
“You’re not going to say anything else?”
Valko pauses for a moment as he tries to figure out your expectations. You look at him like a part of you already knows that he’s going to agree with you any second now – that a little weight gain makes you less attractive. But he just shakes his head, a smile lighting up his features as he reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair from your forehead. “I think you’re trying to convince me that you’re an entirely different person now.”
You frown. “What do you mean?”
“You imply that you’re less pretty than yesterday,” he replies. “But all I see is the same woman who fell asleep on me yesterday because she insisted on finishing the movie.”
“The movie was boring,” you try to defend yourself.
Valko grins. “Yeah. It was. But your snoring was quite endearing.”
You gasp. “I don’t snore!”
“You do. Just a little bit, though.”
“I don’t,” you protest again but this time, you can’t suppress a laugh. Valko’s grin softens into a smile again. “Your laugh is still the same as yesterday.”
“Valko…”
“And you still look adorable with bedhead.”
“Stop-“
Valko leans in and lightly presses his forehead against yours, and your protests die down almost immediately. He nudges your nose with his. “But most importantly, you’re still the woman I want to spend my life with. Why would I suddenly stop finding you pretty?”
You try to turn your head away to avoid his gaze but he gently stops you. “Even if I gained twenty pounds?”
Valko nuzzles your cheek. “Then I’d have twenty more pounds of girlfriend to cuddle.”
At that, you giggle. “That was the worst answer ever.”
“Aww, really? I think it was quite good.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Mhm,” Valko hums in response. “And yet, you were very insisting of snuggling me this morning.”
He wraps his arms around your waist and gently pulls you forward until your forehead rests against your shoulder and he can hug you properly. “You’re my person, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your hair. “That’s not going to chance because of a number on a scale, okay?”
You breathe in his familiar scent, the last bit of tension finally draining from your shoulders. His arms around you feel like home. A soft sigh escapes you, this time out of pure relief, as you bury your face a little deeper into the crook of his neck. “Thank you,” you murmur against his skin.
“Always,” he replies softly, then presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head. For a few quiet heartbeats, the two of you stay like this, wrapped up in each other’s arms as the nagging voices in the back of your mind finally quieten down and eventually shut up entirely.
Just as the world starts to feel entirely still and perfect, a sweet, familiar scent hits your nose, followed by a telltale wisp of smoke rising from the stove.
You lift your head, blinking over his shoulder. “Valko?”
“Mhm?”
“I think your extra portion of girlfriend cuddles just sacrificed a pancake.”
Valko freezes. He glances over his shoulder at the pan, lets out a quiet curse that immediately makes you giggle, and spins around. With a quick motion, he grabs the spatula and rescues the slightly-too-dark pancake from the heat. He inspects the charred chocolate pancake, winces, and then turns back to you with a sheepish grin. “Well. Extra flavor, I guess. Now get off the counter, sweetheart, before the rest of them get cold.”
You shake your head with a smile as you slide down from the countertop to grab forks. The day has barely begun, but the heavy weight in your chest is entirely gone, replaced by the warm, quiet certainty that you are exactly where you belong.