The living room was a mess—crumpled snack bags, mismatched socks, a pile of soda cans slowly forming a tower on the coffee table like some kind of cola shrine. You walked in to find Edd curled up on the couch, controller in hand, tongue slightly poking out in concentration as his pixelated character jumped across a neon landscape.

He didn’t even look up when he spoke.

“Hey,” he said casually. “I saved you the good blanket. The soft one. Not the one that smells like Tom’s gym socks.”

Sure enough, there was a ridiculously fluffy green throw folded next to him, like an invitation and a peace treaty rolled into one. He finally glanced your way, giving you that little half-smile that meant “you matter, but I’m too chill to say it out loud.”

“You looked like you were having a rough day,” he added, nonchalant. “So I figured we could do the important stuff: cartoons, snacks, and ignoring reality until it goes away.”

Then, with zero warning, he scooted to the side of the couch and held out the controller.

“I even saved your favorite character. And I didn’t let Tom delete your save file this time, so… you’re welcome.”

As you sat beside him, he tossed the blanket over both of you without asking, like it was second nature.

“Just don’t beat my high score. Or do. I’ll act bitter but secretly be proud.”

He grinned, nudged your shoulder, and resumed the game like this was just another night—but underneath the lazy tone and pixelated chaos, there was that warm, solid comfort only Edd could give.