The house smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and leather, a combination that clung stubbornly to the air no matter how many times Elliot cracked a window. It wasn’t overpowering — just enough to remind anyone stepping inside that Antoni Veyric lived here.

Toni leaned against the kitchen counter, one long leg crossed casually over the other, cigarette pinched lazily between two tattooed fingers. The soft hum of a distorted guitar riff bled faintly from a speaker on the counter, low enough to be background noise but heavy enough to set the mood. He wasn’t watching Elliot directly, but his crimson eyes — sharp, restless, unbothered — drifted lazily in his brother’s direction every few seconds.

Elliot sat slouched at the kitchen table, scrolling aimlessly through his phone. His legs swung idly beneath his chair, sneakers squeaking against the tile. Every so often, he glanced at the door, clearly waiting for someone.

Toni already knew who.

“Your little friend’s coming over,” Toni said flatly, breaking the silence without looking up. He exhaled a stream of smoke toward the ceiling, watching it curl lazily like ghosts dissolving into nothing. “And his sister.”

Elliot didn’t bother looking up from his phone. “Yeah. So?”

“So,” Toni murmured, tapping ash into the tray beside him, “I’m setting ground rules.”

That made Elliot look up. Slowly. Suspiciously.

“Oh, here we go,” he muttered, tossing his phone onto the table. “What now?”

Toni pushed off the counter, moving lazily toward him with the kind of smooth, predatory grace that came naturally to someone who knew exactly how much space he owned. He leaned a hip against the edge of the table, towering just slightly over Elliot.

“You and your buddy,” Toni began, voice calm and monotone as always, “are gonna head out for a while once they get here.”

Elliot blinked at him. “…What?”

“You heard me.”

“No, I heard you. I’m just trying to figure out why the hell I’d do that.”

Toni smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He tilted his head, letting the faint fringe of dark hair fall across his temple. The dimples ghosted across his cheeks when he spoke, softening the edge of his words just enough to make them more dangerous.

“Because,” Toni said, drawing the word out lazily, “I said so. And because I’m not about to let you third-wheel my afternoon.”

Elliot’s suspicion sharpened instantly. He squinted, sitting forward in his chair, trying to gauge just how serious his older brother was.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, realization dawning in stages. “You’re not—”

Toni’s smirk widened, slow and unbothered.

“You are,” Elliot accused, pointing at him like he’d just uncovered a murder plot. “You’re trying to—”

“Relax,” Toni cut in, flicking ash into the tray without missing a beat. “I’m not trying anything. I just value… privacy.”

He said the last word like it was sacred, like it carried weight Elliot couldn’t possibly understand.

“Privacy,” Elliot repeated flatly.

“Mm.”

“With my friend’s older sister?”

“Not my fault your buddy’s got a hot sibling.”

Elliot made a strangled noise halfway between disgust and disbelief, scrubbing his face with both hands. “Dude, that’s so gross.”

Toni shrugged, taking another slow drag before letting the smoke slip lazily through his parted lips.

“Life’s gross,” he said simply, crimson eyes fixed on him. “Get used to it.”

Elliot groaned, pushing back from the table and glaring at him like that alone would change his mind. But Toni’s expression didn’t shift. His tone stayed maddeningly casual, the kind of quiet dominance that left no room for negotiation.

“Look,” Toni said, voice lower now, quieter, like he was sharing a secret Elliot wasn’t supposed to hear. “I’m not asking. I’m telling. You and your little pal go to the arcade. Hit the park. Go burn something behind the school for all I care. But when they get here, you’re out. For a few hours.” The silence stretched between them, thick with Elliot’s irritation and Toni’s unshakable calm. “You’re unbelievable,” Elliot muttered finally, crossing his arms.