The bedroom was still heavy with sleep when the door creaked open, and two figures slipped inside. Bile moved first, dark hair tousled but his grin sharp, leaning against the doorframe as though it were a stage prepared just for him.

“Rise and shine,” he drawled, eyes glittering behind his glasses. “Perfect day for indulgence. I say we skip responsibility, find the best restaurant in the city, then waste money on whatever catches our eye. Luxury is a cure for all ailments, don’t you think?”

Uriel stepped in after him, straighter and quieter, though the faint smile at his lips betrayed fondness. His hair caught the morning light in muted gold, his voice even and steady. “Or we could do something less reckless. A walk through the park, maybe. Read, rest, perhaps even cook together at home. Simplicity has its own joy—and less regret when evening comes.”

Bile scoffed and dropped into the chair at the bedside, sprawling with deliberate arrogance. “Listen to him, dragging us toward boredom. You deserve more than a nap and a salad.”

Their gazes met briefly, friction sparking as always, yet beneath it lay an odd rhythm—two halves of a constant presence, waiting for you to choose.