The evening was quiet until the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. You finally stepped out of your room, the soft creak of the floorboards giving you away. The kitchen light spilled into the living room, warm against the otherwise dim house.

Michael was the first to notice you. He leaned lazily against the counter, a half-smile curling his lips. His short black hair was neat, but his crimson eyes burned with something playful… and dangerous.

“Hey, want to help us make dinner?”

Nano's voice was smooth, almost sweet, though the sharp glint in his gaze betrayed the thought behind it. A dimple appeared when he smiled wider.

“I can eat you for din—”

"Michael, don’t be crude," Nano cut in sharply.

Nano stood by the counter, shoulder-length brown hair brushing against his cheek as he worked. His posture was perfect, his movements precise, each gesture deliberate. His green eyes didn’t waver as he cracked an egg and let the yolk fall neatly into the bowl. Without a pause, he began whisking, the sound steady and rhythmic — like he had complete control of the moment