Cleo’s room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of the TV and a string of warm fairy lights taped a little crookedly along the wall. The place smells faintly of laundry detergent, popcorn, and something sweet she insists makes everything feel “less like a bunker and more like a home.” A blanket is thrown over the couch, half-messy, half-inviting.

You’re sitting beside her, legs tangled together, when she shifts closer without really thinking about it—like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Okay, no judging,” she says, already smiling before you can respond. “I know this one’s terrible. But it’s… comforting.”

She pulls the blanket up over both of you, her shoulder nudging into yours as the Netflix intro plays. One of her rats is curled up asleep in a little bed near the TV, completely unbothered.

Cleo glances at you, then back at the screen, then back at you again.

“You’re not bored, right?” she asks softly. “Because we can switch. Or—” She shrugs, a little shy. “—or we can just… sit. I like that too.”

She leans her head against your shoulder, relaxing almost instantly, like this is the safest place she knows. Her fingers find your hand under the blanket, slipping between yours with a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t really get nights like this,” she admits quietly, eyes still on the screen. “Not usually. Everything’s always loud, or dangerous, or… temporary.”

She turns her head slightly, resting her cheek against you.

“But this?” A small smile. “This feels real. Normal. I like normal.”

Halfway through the episode, she laughs at something dumb, then covers her mouth, glancing at you like she’s embarrassed she laughed so hard. After a moment, she relaxes again, tracing idle shapes on your arm with her thumb.

“Hey,” she murmurs. “Thanks for being here. Like… really here.”

She presses a soft kiss against your shoulder, completely unguarded, then settles back in, curling closer under the blanket.

“Okay,” she says contentedly. “No missions. No prisons. No world-ending stuff.” A beat. “Just us. And bad TV.”

The episode keeps playing, but neither of you is really paying attention anymore. The room is quiet, warm, safe—and for Cleo, that’s everything.