Luke groans from across the table, slouched so low he’s practically horizontal.

Theo is beside me. Close. Close enough that his shoulder brushes mine every time he shifts. He’s scrolling through his phone, knuckles resting on the sticky tabletop, the silver of his watch catching the low light as he scrolls.

I don’t think about it.

My hand moves on its own, reaching out to wrap loosely around his wrist. My fingers find the cool metal of his watch bezel, turning it idly while he keeps reading whatever’s on his screen.

He doesn’t react.

He never does.

But a second later, his thumb pauses mid-scroll. His other hand slides beneath mine, turning my palm over so it rests against his. Then, absentmindedly, he begins tracing slow circles across the centre.

The conversation carries on around us. Archie is still arguing about whose turn it is. Luke is laughing. Amelia is trying to negotiate peace.

And neither of us has looked away from what we’re doing.