Be not afraid.

“Okay, cool.” He gets out of bed and roots through the drawers for some pants. “Hey, uh, Lyn, you weren’t like, doing anything today were you?”

“Not unless you’re involved, no.” She grabbed one of his shirts and pulled it on, smoothing out the wrinkles with her hand. 

“I’ve never had that before.” He rubs his eyes.

She grins. “Then it’ll be something new.”

“Lobster? For breakfast?”

“Yeah, in an omelette.”

“Uhh,” He sits up and runs a hand through his hair. “Cereal, I guess? What were you feeling?”

“Lobster,” she responds. “I’ve been craving it for weeks.”

He continues to lay in bed, blinking at the ceiling. “Right… breakfast. Okay. Sounds good.”

“Any request?”

His hand stills and he stares at her through the cracks of his fingers. I am definitely dreaming. He thinks and waits for her to kick him. Nothing. “Uh,” Shit. “Uh,” She probably wants him to say something. “…Okay.”

“You don’t have to say it back. I said it because I wanted you to know.” She plants a kiss on his forehead before rolling out of bed and grabbing a pair of pants from the floor. “I’m going to make breakfast.”

He places an hand on her waist and grunts. “Okay, I’m up.” He blinks sleepily and rubs his eyes with the other hand. “What is it?”

She stares down at him with a smile. “I love you.”

He sighs and doesn’t open his eyes. “Just five more minutes.” He grumbles.

Lyn sighed and rested her head on his chest. “No, wake up now. This is important.”

He snickers. “Please, I want to look good tonight.” He turns on the water and gives his face a good wash. After a few seconds he towel dries his cheeks and inspects his handiwork. Satisfied, he heads to his closet “So, what do you think?” He says and steps out holding a pink shirt and a white shirt. “I’m feeling the pink one.”

"Uhh," He looks down at her legs. "Go for the six?" A grin makes it’s way up his face, and he finishes shaving his neck. "You’re already ready? Jeez, I haven’t even put on pants."

"Six it is then." She grabs another pair and takes a seat to put them on. Lyn laughs and rolls her eyes. "You can go to dinner like that, you know. I'll be able to shoot people glares when they look at your ass."

He takes off the jacket and places it on the bed next to hers. “Oh?” He says, trying—maybe in vain—to sound nonchalant and a little surprised. To keep his face from giving himself away, he heads back to the bathroom to finish shaving. “I had no idea.” Hastily he grabs the razor and fumbles with it as he tries to think of a subject to change to. “So, uh, this restaurant.” He starts abruptly, before she can say something. “It’s owned by a Cuban couple. I heard about it from one of the guys, and he said they are gonna serve authentic Cuban food.” 

She arches her brow at his comment, but decides not to say about it. Minerva mumbles something about the smell of anxiety and Lyn notices the change in his heartbeat. "Authentic Cuban? That sounds really good to me." Once she had her jeans secured, she moves into the bathroom to grab a bottle of perfume before finishing up her outfit. "How tall should my heels be? I was thinking three, but I wouldn't mind six."

He crosses the bedroom and inspects the jacket. “Wow,” He runs his fingers over the gold lettering. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do this.” Hesitantly, he shrugs the jacket over his shoulders and is careful not to rub the part of his face with shaving cream on the collar. There he stands in boxers, a leather jacket, and nothing else. He flexes at Lyn. “Feels great.” He grins at his girlfriend.

"It looks good on you." She says while in inspecting him. Lyn can't tell if it's the jacket or because it's Luciano's grin, but she is smiling none the less. After a few seconds, she tosses her matching jacket onto the bed and nods at it. "You know," she mumbles while changing. "Our six month anniversary is coming up soon."