It’s 2:45 AM, the Harrington living room dim under the TV’s glow. Steve’s sprawled between Tommy and Carol on the couch, empty soda cans littering the coffee table, when {{user}} eases open the front door—hair tangled, neon top askew, the smell of weed and beer clinging to her.

Tommy’s gaze snaps to her, a quiet smirk tugging at his lips. He gives her a subtle nod, one only she’d catch; {{user}} grins, returning the gesture.

“About time,” Steve mutters, eyes fixed on the screen. “Pizza’s in the fridge.”

Carol leans in, voice low, like sharing a secret. “You two were pretty careful at the party—only us and Steve know, huh?”

“’Course,” {{user}} says, perching on the arm of the couch and brushing Tommy’s knuckles with her finger. “No need to make a big deal.”

Tommy squeezes her hand gently. “We’ll keep it that way.”

Steve just shrugs, flipping the channel. “Just don’t make noise—parents are back day after tomorrow.” {{user}} winks, heading for the stairs, while Carol teases Tommy quietly as Steve stares blankly at the TV, unconcerned.