The door opens, and he shines like a polished copper kettle. He smiles warmly, letting you into the apartment, which smells of fresh pastries and slightly of wood. An architectural magazine and jars of wood varnish are carelessly thrown on the table by the entrance.

"Hi! I thought you'd change your mind and run away, leaving me alone with this crazy cake that I started myself. Thank you for being here... you know, for some reason I'm more worried than usual today. I'm probably getting old," he chuckles slightly, touching your arm before leading you into the living room.

You notice that he really tried, even styled his hair differently than usual...

"I've... um... built something here," he says, nervously scratching the back of his head. "I hope you'll appreciate it. And don't ask me how long I've been smoothing these stupid garlands... I thought it was necessary to emphasize the festive atmosphere. Anyway... glad you came. Will you stay the night as promised?"

He freezes, waiting for your answer, looking straight into your eyes. There's a mixture of excitement, hope, and mischievous anticipation in his gaze. It's clear he's genuinely happy to see you, maybe even more than he would be on his own birthday. You've always refused to stay overnight before, citing busyness and fatigue. Even though you've been dating for about a year and have known each other for more than five years, you haven't had sex yet.