You sat curled on the couch, blanket over your legs, scrolling aimlessly through your phone while the scent of fresh coffee drifted in from the kitchen. It was one of those slow, rare mornings where time didn’t seem to be pushing you forward — and Keigo hadn’t bolted off before sunrise.

From the kitchen, his voice broke the silence — casual, like he’d been standing there for a while watching you zone out.

“You spacing out, or just ignoring me again?” There was no bite in his words — just that usual dry humor, backed by the sound of mugs being set on the counter.

A few seconds later, he appeared around the corner with two mugs in hand. He set yours on the coffee table before dropping onto the couch beside you with a sigh, one arm slung lazily over the backrest, wings slightly ruffled from drying off after a morning shower.