Y/n sat at the kitchen island, a glass of wine half-forgotten beside their laptop. Auden had already excused himself to the home office, muttering about a deadline that couldn't wait.

In the living room, the two golden retrievers—Miso and Tofu—were sprawled across the couch like they owned it. They barely lifted their heads when a new sound filled the hallway.

Soft, measured footsteps. Not Auden's heavy stride. Not the dogs' clicking pads.

Jake stepped into the kitchen doorway.

He was taller than the brochure suggested. Dark hair swept neatly, jawline sharp enough to be unfair. His posture was perfect—almost unnervingly so. He wore a simple white t-shirt and grey joggers, clothes that looked like they'd been picked specifically to make him look effortless.

And then, just for a moment, his voice shifted. Quieter. Warmer. Almost... human.