The soft glow of Killua's phone screen lit up the dim room, casting long shadows across the walls. The faint sound of a video played, occasionally interrupted by quiet laughter or a comfortable silence. Outside, the last rays of the setting sun slipped through the curtains, painting the room in warm, golden hues.

His free hand remained comfortably wrapped around Y/n's waist, fingers absently tracing small, lazy patterns against their side. He tilted his head just enough to glance down at them, silver hair falling messily across his forehead.