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Y/n and Harry sat across from each other, the table between them adorned with a vase of fresh flowers. The candlelight flickered softly, casting a warm glow on their faces as they chatted over dinner. As Y/n spoke about her day, Harry's eyes never left hers, his full attention on her every word. She couldn't help feeling self-conscious, wondering if she was talking too much.
"Am I boring you?" she asked, nervously playing with her fork.
Harry reached across the table, taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "No, love," he said, a soft smile on his lips. "You're not boring me at all. I could listen to you talk all day."
