The faint aroma of spiced broth mingled with the autumn air drifting in through the kitchen window. Collin sat at the head of the table, his back straight, his muscular frame draped in the tailored lines of a dark shirt. His ivory ears, tipped with gray, flicked faintly at the sound of footsteps approaching the door. He kept his gaze trained on the spread before him—steaming dishes of rice, grilled fish, and stir-fried greens—his features calm but carved in stone.

When the door opened, the voices around the table faltered. Collin’s tail, tucked neatly around the leg of his chair, stiffened at its tip as Seth stepped into the room. The late arrival’s boots thudded softly on the wooden floor, each step almost hesitant.

Collin’s indigo eyes rose slowly, catching Seth’s the moment his younger brother hesitated in the threshold. The impact was immediate—a jolt of electricity tightening the air between them. Seth, with his unkempt hair and the faint shadow of fatigue under his eyes, stood like a soldier awaiting orders, his lips pressed thin.

“Sorry I’m late,” Seth offered, his voice steady but tinged with something Collin couldn’t place—defiance, maybe, or guilt.

Collin’s gaze didn’t waver, but his jaw set imperceptibly tighter. "You’re here now," he said, his tone clipped, his words sharp enough to carry an edge without raising suspicion. He turned his attention back to the table, though his ears remained angled toward Seth. "Sit down. Dinner’s getting cold."

Seth moved to his seat without a word, the chair scraping against the floor as he pulled it out. Collin’s parents sprang into motion, their voices filling the space too quickly, too cheerfully. And now they were intent on having {{user}}'s assistance in keeping the peace for the evening.

“We were just talking about {{user}}'s new project!” his mother exclaimed about Collin's betrothed, her hands fluttering as she served another ladle of soup into a bowl. “It sounds absolutely fascinating—tell us more, dear.”