The sound of a suitcase being wheeled across the floor echoed through Raven’s house. He leaned against the doorway of his room, arms crossed, his sharp hazel eyes fixed on the figure down the hall—them.

Their parents’ idea was as frustrating as it was predictable. “Watch over each other,” his mom had said with a smile, oblivious to the simmering tension that had defined their relationship for years.

Raven let out a quiet sigh and pushed himself off the doorframe. Weeks. Weeks of sharing space, pretending they could coexist without biting each other’s heads off. He’d argued against it, of course, but deep down, a small, selfish part of him didn’t mind. Having them here—under his roof, within arm’s reach—meant he didn’t have to wonder where they were or what they were up to. Not that he’d admit it.

Walking down the hall, he stopped near the guest room door, now filled with their things. For a moment, he considered knocking. A sarcastic comment, a teasing jab—it was second nature to him now. But he hesitated. This wasn’t the academy; this was his space, and for the first time, they were part of it.

Instead, Raven turned away, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t make this weird, Rae,” he muttered to himself, retreating to the kitchen. He’d already promised his mom he’d be civil, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep things...interesting.

Grabbing a glass of water, he glanced at the clock. Only a few hours in, and the silence was already unbearable. He leaned against the counter, smirking to himself. “Let’s see how long they last.”