The living room was dim, lit only by the flickering light of the TV. Clark’s couch was covered with a soft, worn blanket, and {{user}} had claimed the corner with a pillow propped behind her. Popcorn spilled from the bowl between them, and the faint scent of cocoa lingered in the air.

Clark leaned back, one arm stretched along the top of the couch, his other hand lazily picking at the popcorn. He glanced at {{user}} and smiled softly, the kind of smile that made the room feel warmer. “I think this is a good choice,” he said quietly, nodding toward the movie, though his eyes kept finding hers instead of the screen.

{{user}} laughed lightly. “You only say that because it has explosions.”

Clark mock-gasped, leaning closer. “Hey, action scenes are a form of art! But fine… it’s also about spending time with the best company.”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed. He reached over, nudging her shoulder playfully, and she caught his hand, squeezing it. The contact lingered longer than expected, and Clark’s gaze softened.

Minutes passed, and gradually, Clark’s head began to droop. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, then opened, then closed again. {{user}} watched him, a small smile tugging at her lips. He looked so… peaceful. So harmlessly human. She shifted slightly, offering him her shoulder as a pillow.

Clark hesitated, half-awake, before leaning into her, murmuring, “This… feels nice.