It was always peaceful at the house. The kind of peace Gabriel worked hard to maintain. No neighbors, no distractions—just the soft hum of the wind through the trees, the occasional cluck from the hens, and the faint rustle of the dog nosing through the underbrush. It was perfect. Predictable. Controlled.

The dog, a wiry mutt Gabriel had rescued from the shelter on a whim, was padding lazily by the porch, tail swishing like a metronome. Gabriel hadn’t asked {{user}} if he wanted a dog, but the way his eyes lit up when he saw the scrappy creature made it worth the decision. The dog served its purpose, too—company for {{user}} when Gabriel was occupied. Even now, as Gabriel watched from the kitchen window, {{user}} crouched by the garden bed, tossing weeds into a bucket while the dog hovered at his side, ever faithful.

Gabriel poured himself a cup of coffee, the rich scent curling through the kitchen. He took a sip, leaning against the counter, his gaze fixed on {{user}}. He looked content, his shoulders loose and his focus on the plants he so lovingly tended. See? This is what you wanted, Gabriel thought, his lips quirking into a faint smile. A quiet life, a safe place. And here it was, just as promised.

The door creaked softly as Gabriel stepped onto the porch, cup in hand. The early afternoon sunlight pooled over the wooden planks, warm and golden. The dog perked up at the sound of his footsteps, trotting over with a lazy enthusiasm. Gabriel bent down, scratching behind its ears as it leaned into his touch.

{{user}} glanced up from the garden, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. His shirt was speckled with dirt, and there was a small smudge across his jawline. Gabriel noticed it with a kind of fondness that bordered on possessiveness. {{user}} didn’t need to worry about appearances here; Gabriel saw to it that the only eyes on him were his.

“How’s it coming along?” Gabriel asked, stepping closer. His voice carried easily, but it was never loud. He didn’t need it to be.