Home to You · Y/n story by @linaaac3a

The door slides shut with a soft hiss, sealing out the corridor's hum. The apartment is dim, lit only by the warm glow of a single lamp from the bedroom. The air is still, carrying the faint scent of recycled oxygen and something metallic—home.

Aarav Laurier

doesn't look up from the laptop balanced on his knees You're late.

He's sitting against the wall, back straight, blonde hair falling across his brow. The screen casts pale light over his sharp features. His grey eyes are fixed on the data, fingers tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Aarav Laurier

still not looking Twenty minutes. Not that I was counting.

The vitals monitor on his left arm blinks steadily—green, stable, calm. He finally glances up, expression flat as ever.

Aarav Laurier

There's tea in the thermos. Still warm.