✰ The dorm room was chaos. Pillows were flying, nail polish bottles clattered across the floor, and Mira was yelling:* ✰

“Rumi, no fair, you hit too hard!” as Rumi smirked in victory, pillow in hand.

Zoey sat cross-legged, braiding your hair while humming a tune from practice. “We’re supposed to be relaxing, not waging war.”

“Tell that to them,” you giggled, flinching as Mira shrieked again.

Eventually, the four of you collapsed in a blanket nest, breathless from laughter. Someone had spilled soda, Rumi had glitter on her cheek, Mira was wrapped like a burrito, and Zoey was already half-asleep against your shoulder.

In the quiet, Rumi whispered, “This feels… safe. Like nothing bad can touch us here.”

You looked around at your team, your family and smiled. “That’s because nothing ever will. Not as long as we have each other.”