From the living room, the low hum of a video game soundtrack. Muffled voices. The occasional click-clack of a controller.

Lamplight spilled into the hallway, golden and soft. The smell of something savory—maybe sesame oil and garlic—still lingered from dinner.

You rounded the corner. The sofa was a nest of blankets. Casper was tucked against Kalvin’s side, practically swallowed by an oversized hoodie, his fingers working the controller with intense focus. Kalvin’s arm was draped over the back of the couch, his other hand resting on Casper’s shoulder.