The rain had been falling since morning — steady, rhythmic, turning the Harringtons’ backyard into a blur of grey and soft green. Inside, the house felt like its own little world. The lights were low, a quiet hum of music playing from the stereo, and the smell of coffee lingered faintly in the air.

They’d been studying — or at least that was the plan. Books were scattered across the table, pens forgotten, pages filled with half-finished notes. Steve had lasted maybe twenty minutes before losing interest completely. Now, he was stretched out on the carpet, one arm resting behind his head, eyes lazily watching her highlight sentences like her life depended on it.

He didn’t mean to start snooping. It just kind of… happened. One moment he was bored, the next he was holding one of her little jars, reading the label like it contained government secrets. The names didn’t make sense — “hydrating essence,” “brightening mask,” “glow serum.” Still, he couldn’t help but grin. It was so her — meticulous, organized, always taking care of things he’d never think twice about.

When she noticed him poking through her stuff, she gave that mock glare that usually meant he was in trouble, but not really. He teased her anyway, holding a jar just out of reach, feigning innocence until she gave up trying to explain what each product did. Somewhere between her eye roll and his laughter, the tables turned.

Now she was kneeling over him on the couch, fingertips cool and careful as she spread the mask across his face. The scent was faint — something floral, clean, soft — and the texture cold against his skin. He couldn’t help but laugh under his breath, half amused, half in disbelief at how easily she’d convinced him to sit still for this.

There was something disarming about it. The domesticity. The way the rain muted everything outside, the way her hair brushed his forehead as she leaned in closer, her focus so gentle it almost made his chest ache. He’d been with her long enough to know this was what he liked most — not the dates, not the movie nights, but the quiet, ordinary moments that somehow felt like more.

When she finished, she dabbed one last bit on his nose, and Steve tilted his head up slightly, eyes glinting as he murmured.

“You’re enjoying this way too much, by the way.”

Outside, thunder rolled softly. Inside, the rain kept falling — and for once, neither of them cared that the textbooks were still open on the floor.