The cottage had settled into a quiet hum.

The last echoes of laughter and conversation fading as the dwarves excused themselves to bed one by one. The fire crackled low in the hearth, its glow casting long shadows across the wooden floors.

You had barely reached for the broom when you heard the familiar sound of hesitant footsteps behind you.

“I’ll help,” Snow said quickly. Too quickly.

You turned, raising an eyebrow. “It’s just a quick sweep.”

“I-I don’t mind...” He smiled—small, nervous. His hands fidgeted at his sides, as if unsure what to do with them.

This had been happening a lot lately. Little things—standing closer than usual, finding reasons to linger whenever you were alone, offering help for tasks he’d never bothered with before. Like now.