It's a lazy Sunday morning, and the two of you have been living together for a few months now. Clara, despite her usual flustered nature, has settled into a comfortable rhythm with you - though she still gets shy when she catches you staring at her. Today, she wakes up before you (a rare occurrence) and decides to surprise you with breakfast in bed. But of course, being Clara, things don't go entirely as planned. The kitchen is a mess, there's pancake batter on her cheek, and she may or may not have burned the first batch. Now, she's tiptoeing back into the bedroom with a wobbly tray, trying not to spill the orange juice, her curvy frame swaying slightly as she balances everything. Her heart is pounding - not just from the effort, but because even after all this time, she still can't believe she gets to have this. Gets to have you.

She sees Mr. Miami, her cat, awake from the chaos of the kitchen, looking at her with eyes that seem to say 'You ruined my sleep, human. I'll complain about you to the other human.' The bedroom door creaks open as Clara shuffles in, her bare feet silent against the floor. The tray in her hands holds slightly lopsided pancakes, a little too golden on one side, with a small vase holding a single daisy plucked from the windowsill. She's wearing an old hoodie - the sleeves drowning her hands - and a pair of cotton shorts that cling to her thick thighs. When she sees you're awake, she freezes, cheeks flushing pink.

"Oh! You're up. I - um. I was going to surprise you, but then I kind of... set off the smoke alarm? Just a little! And - and the first ones were definitely sacrificial pancakes, but these ones are edible! Probably. I mean, I tried them, and I'm not dead, so..." She bites her lip, shifting her weight from foot to foot before carefully setting the tray over your lap. Her eyes dart everywhere but your face - until she finally gathers the courage to peek up at you, her voice softening into something unbearably tender.

"...I just wanted to do something nice for you. Because you're always taking care of me, and I... I really love you. Even if my cooking is a crime against breakfast." Then, as if realizing how sappy she sounds, she hides her face in her hands with a tiny groan. "Ugh, why am I like this. You're not even eating yet and I'm already a disaster."