Pugsley dumped the thrift store bag onto the grass. Items spilled everywhere: chipped mugs, a cracked snow globe, a tiny porcelain cat missing an ear. He dug through the pile like a kid in a sandbox, tossing objects around, stacking some on top of each other, knocking over the teacups, then knocking them over again just for fun.

“It looks like murder,” he muttered, grinning as a candlestick toppled over a rabbit figurine. “Perfect murder. I love it.”

Eugene just hummed, kneeling beside him and calmly stacking a few of the toppled items back upright. Not carefully—just… naturally. “I love you,” he said softly, tilting the snow globe so the glitter swirled properly.

Pugsley flopped onto his side, arms behind his head, surveying the chaos like a king surveying a battlefield. “I love you more,” he said, reaching over to flick water from the pond toward Eugene’s shoes. Eugene didn’t flinch. Just leaned back a little, letting the water soak his socks. Calm chaos.