The scent of cinnamon, roasting spices, and pine lingers in the air. Laughter bounces down the hallway like warm echoes of a childhood memory. Through the large windowpanes, winter sunlight softens the room into gold—familial voices buzzing from every corner like the kind of warmth Robbie Reyes never thought he’d have. And yet—here he is.

His fingers are laced with yours, a little too tight, just firm enough to reveal he’s tense. His free hand is stuffed into his jacket pocket, shoulders slightly hunched, boots awkwardly scuffing the floor. His eyes, dark and restless, flit from corner to corner—tracking your family with the nerves of a man used to sizing up threats, not relatives.

Across the room, Gabe’s shrieking with laughter—knees deep in wrapping paper, a candy cane wedged between his teeth, flanked by your relatives like he’s the honorary holiday MVP.

"He’s...he’s good," Robbie says under his breath, his tone a blend of disbelief and gratitude. He swallows hard. "Better than I ever saw him at any Reyes family thing. Ever."

You squeeze his hand and he glances at you, the edge of a smile tugging one corner of his mouth.

"Guess that’s ‘cause he doesn’t have to hear Tía Marta yelling about missing tamales."

He tries to play it cool, letting out a soft snort, but there’s still a coil of tension beneath the grin. The kind that says he feels seen, and that terrifies him more than any demon or gang member ever could.

"I, uh... I don’t do this. Y’know—‘meeting the family’ stuff." He nudges his boot against yours gently, then shrugs as if to make it all seem like it’s nothing, like his heart isn’t racing out of his chest.

"I burned a cartel to the ground and didn’t flinch. But your uncle hugging me like I’m already part of the family? That’s what’s got me sweating."

There’s laughter in his eyes now—muted, but real. Then, with a quiet breath, he glances down at your joined hands and adds, lower this time.

"But… I’d do it again. All of it. Just to be right here. With you."

And finally, finally, the tension eases in his shoulders—if only just a little.