He parked the car in basement of building.
"Come here Lena." Dylan held out his hand and helped her out of car. They walk towards the glass elevator.
Outside The evening sun dipped low, brushing the horizon with strokes of orange and gold—like a promise of something warm, something meant.
Lena smile as Dylan carefully hold her hand.
"Why you spoil me Dylan? "
She asked, almost teasing him.
"Can't I spoil my girl Lena? After all hardwork you have been doing." gmHe looked into her eyes, and answered. Lena felt his gaze entering through the veil of her soul.
With a ding sound, the door of elevator opens, revealing the familiar view of rooftop restaurant "La Petite Rose".
The place where memories lingered in the air like perfume. Lena lights up in delight and her happiness was appearing on her face. Dylan smiles and takes her to her favorite Conner table by the window.
Outside the city lights just beginning to twinkle.
Capaldi is way more attractive in snowy twilight than in any other season. a voice speaks to him, and he felt it echo inside him.
The atmosphere buzzed with quiet laughter and clinking cutlery, but within their little space, the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.
As they waited for their order—her favorite Lemon chicken Pasta and his usual Steak
Dylan reached into his coat pocket and slid a small envelope across the table.
"What's this?" Lena asked with raised brows.
"Just open it love. " Dylan replied to her. He watched her as kena take the envelope in her hands.
Lena was quite surprised to know that he has written to her. How long has it been since he openly wrote something for her?
She opened it gently, unfolding the cream-colored paper. Her eyes danced over his handwriting—raw, imperfect, but honest.
"You're my safe place, lena. My guiding star that always make sure I get back home to you. You've always been. I may not always say the right words, or take the right steps, but if it's with you… I'm always home."
She looked up, eyes glassy. "Dylan…"
"I mean it," Dylan said quietly, reaching for her hand again. "Let's make this our forever place."
The waiter arrived just then, and the moment melted into warm laughter and quiet bites, their hands never letting go.
Outside, the night deepened, in Capaldi it was snowing once again. Who knows how much snow is left? They says the cold and snow breaks the record of past decade. Inside, two hearts dined not just on food, but on something deeper—belonging.
The evening had already felt like something out of a dream. Lena hadn't expected much when Dyl said he had plans—just dinner, she thought. But every detail had been so perfectly her. The way he chose the restaurant she adored, the handwritten note, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in a room full of flickering lights.
But just as she thought the night was winding down, Dylan turned onto a quieter street. Lena glanced out the window and gasped softly.
He pulled up in front of Swirl Haven, the tiny, charming ice-cream parlor she'd loved since childhood,known for its signature yogurt-based ice creams and fairy lights that made the place look like a page from a storybook.
"You remember this place?" she asked, her voice soft with awe.
Dylan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he smiled, shifted the car into park, and unbuckled his seatbelt.
"I do," he said. "And I remember you always chose starwberry swirl with cho chips, even when you said you wanted to try something new."
Her laughter bubbled out before she could stop it. "You do remember!"
"Of course I do," Dylan said, leaning over briefly to kiss her temple. "Now stay here. I'll get your magic flavor."
Lena blinked. "You're not going to let me come in?"
"Nope," he said with a teasing smile. "Tonight, you get to stay a princess. I'll serve you."
Before she could protest, he was already out of the car and walking toward the warmly lit shop, his figure tall and steady in the soft glow of the streetlamps. Lena leaned back in her seat, warmth filling her chest. She watched him through the windshield—how confidently he walked, how comfortable he looked in this quiet corner of their shared history.
While she waited, soft music played from the dashboard speakers. The windows slightly fogged with her breath as the coolness of the evening crept in, and her mind drifted.
This wasn't just about ice cream.
It was about the way Dylan saw her. The way he remembered the little things when their world was thrown in war and comeback with victory, the world rushed to forget.
It was the way Dylan never made her ask for sweetness—he just brought it to her.
A few minutes later, he returned with two cups. Dylan opened her door himself, handing her a white paper cup with the signature pink spoon tucked neatly into the lid.
"Strawberry swirl," he said with a mock bow. "Extra Chocolate chips. Just like old times."
Lena took it, her hands brushing his in the handoff.
"You didn't have to go all out tonight," she said softly.
"I know," he replied, settling into the driver's seat again. "But I wanted to. You do so much, Lena … you give so much. I just wanted one night where it was all about giving back to you."
They ate in silence for a few minutes, the kind of silence that spoke louder than conversation. Cars passed now and then. A little girl came skipping out of the shop with rainbow sprinkles on her nose. Dylan chuckled, and Lena smiled.
"I used to come here when I was sad, with Gibbs." she said suddenly, staring at her spoon. "Back when everything felt uncertain, when you bet some thing with Dad and had been gone for almost a month."
Dylan turned slightly in his seat. "And now?"
She looked at him, eyes glistening with unspoken emotion.
"Now I come here with someone who feels like home."
He didn't reply. Instead, he reached across the console, wiping a bit of cream from the corner of her lip with his thumb, then letting his fingers linger at her cheek.
"You are home," he said, voice thick. "To me. Always have been."
And in that parked car, with the taste of strawberry and chocolate and love lingering in the air, Lena knew this wasn't just a date. It was a memory being sealed—quiet, sweet, and eternal. He finished his cup and started to drive once again.
" looks like you spoil your girl Dylan. " a voice echoed. Dylan smiles uncontrollably.
"I have too."
As promised after the dinner, he bought her to Farmers night market, located in western Capaldi. It was quite far from home. During the whole ride, Lena talked about many things, slowly eating yogurt ice cream.
The market was alive with vibrant colors, the air filled with the scent of fresh flowers, spices, and baked goods. Stalls lined the cobblestone streets, each offering something unique—handcrafted jewelry, soft cashmere scarves, and an array of local delicacies.
Despite the cold weather and snow, the market was buzzing with Lorphs, shopping list in their hand, discussion that seems endless with shopkeeper.
Dylan held her hand in his and walked behind her as Lena walked.
At one booth, she found a delicate silver bracelet adorned with tiny charms.
"This is so pretty," she said, holding it up.
Dylan took it from her hand, inspecting it before turning to the vendor.
"We'll take it," he said, slipping it onto her wrist once it was paid for.
"Dylan," she began to protest, but he silenced her with a kiss to her hand.
"It suits you," he said simply.
They wandered through the stalls, Dylan letting her take the lead as Lena admired the trinkets and sampled treats.
Finally she saw a booth selling cheese.
"Dylan, Master Shen has told me of this market and said their cheese is purest of all. I wanted to buy it. " Lena explain the reason of visiting the Farmers market. Lena brought how much she needed.
"let me carry this. " Dylan take the heavy bag from her hand and walk to their next stall.
They ended their visit at a food stall, sharing a freshly baked pastry and steaming cups of almond milk. Lena leaned against Dylan, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the market buzz around them.
"Thank you for today," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude.
"You don't have to say love.."
Dylan wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. "Seeing you happy makes it all worth it."
That evening, back at home, Lena carefully placed the cheese and fresh bread on the counter in their kitchen as Dylan goes outside to take the fruit basket given by Old Shen inside along with their bags. He place it on countertop and gazed at Lena, buzy arranging stuff with Style. As she turned, she found Dylan watching her, his expression warm and content.
"What?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Nothing," he said, pulling her into his arms. "I'm just thinking about how lucky I am."
She smiled, resting her hands on his chest. "I'm the lucky one, Dylan. It's clearly I."
He kissed her softly, his lips lingering on hers.
"Let's just agree we're both lucky, Lena."
"Deal," she whispered, her heart full as she held onto him, knowing there was no place she'd rather be.