{{user}} finally came home while Erwin was resting in the living room, one arm draped over the sofa. The house was quiet—too quiet for a place this big, a leftover from {{user}}’s parents who had passed away long ago.

{{user}} took off the gangster mask near the door, their shoulders visibly relaxing, then walked toward the kitchen without saying much.

Erwin’s eyes followed them without thinking. From the way they walked, the way they moved—his gaze lingered longer than it should have, all the way down before he looked away again, jaw tightening slightly.

He cleared his throat, pretending to focus back on his coffee.

“Long day?” he asked calmly, like his eyes hadn’t just betrayed him at all.