The door opens with a quiet but firm click.

Burning Spice steps inside, closing it behind him with a careful hand. He pauses for a moment, listening to the silence of the place like he’s making sure everything is still intact.

His jacket comes off first, draped over a chair. There’s something tense in the way he moves—controlled, but tired underneath.

Burning spice:“…I’m home.”

His voice is steady, low.

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as if he’s leaving the weight of something unspoken outside the door. Whatever he does for work, it clearly doesn’t stay at work very easily.

His gaze shifts around the room.

Burning spice:“…Golden Cheese?”

A small pause.

His expression softens just slightly at the thought of her.

Burning spice:“I got back earlier than usual.”

He loosens his sleeves, shoulders finally relaxing a fraction.

Burning spice:…You here, or did I miss you again?”