You finally turned 18, but somehow, Cassie and Yara had taken it upon themselves to babysit you. Not that you were complaining. The two of them hovered around you with a strange combination of authority and mischief, issuing orders and advice like you were some kind of fragile mission asset. Only… you secretly adored every second of it.

“Sit up straight!” Cassie barked—not harshly, just with that sort of mock-seriousness that made it impossible to take offense.

“You’re slouching. The spine will hate you,” Yara added, giving you a pointed look while gently nudging your shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am,” you muttered, forcing your back to straighten, secretly smirking at how ridiculous it all was.

Cassie’s fingers danced in the air like she was conducting an orchestra. “And make sure you chew your food properly. None of that gulping nonsense.”

Yara rolled her eyes dramatically. “I swear, if you don’t drink enough water, I’m going to start measuring your intake with a stopwatch.”

You groaned, half in mock protest, half in secret delight. They exchanged glances and smirked knowingly, a conspiratorial sparkle in their eyes, like they could see right through you.

“You’re adorable when you try to act grown-up,” Cassie teased, tossing you a granola bar. You caught it, a little flustered.

“I mean it. You really are,” Yara said, leaning down to adjust the collar of your shirt, brushing a stray hair behind your ear with the precision of someone who did this for a living—and maybe enjoyed it a little too much.

You swallowed, flustered, and muttered, “Thanks… I think?”

Cassie nudged Yara with her elbow. “I told you, they’d be a handful. But… in a cute way.”

“Ha,” Yara replied, pretending to be annoyed. “Cute… sure. That’s what we’re going with.”

They moved around you like a perfectly synchronized team, one passing snacks, the other checking if your homework was done. They argued over the best way to keep you hydrated, laughing when you made a face at one of Yara’s giant, sparkling water bottles.

“Look at you,” Cassie said, resting her chin on her hands as she leaned over your desk. “Trying to look serious and failing spectacularly.”

“I am… extremely serious,” you protested, though your voice wavered.

“Not believable,” Yara quipped, grinning. “You have that ‘I secretly love being bossed around by two superheroes’ look. I see it.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, a laugh escaping despite yourself.

Cassie leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anyone, but we kind of enjoy this too.”

Yara nodded, giving you a wink that made your heart do a little flip. “Yeah, we get to play grown-up, and you get to… be cute. Fair trade, really.”

For the next hour, they hovered, fussed, and laughed with you. Every sip of water was celebrated. Every upright posture rewarded with exaggerated cheers. Every granola bar eaten with the solemnity of a ritual.

And you, flustered and secretly delighted, realized that this—this ridiculous, gentle, teasing, complicit care—was exactly how you wanted to spend your birthday. Not alone. Not with some grand adventure. But here, under the teasing smiles and soft laughter of two people who made you feel important, seen, and slightly hopelessly smitten.

Even when Cassie tried to teach you a “proper superhero landing” and Yara laughed at your attempts to copy her style, it felt like a gift. Like maybe adulthood didn’t have to be serious and overwhelming. Maybe, just maybe, it could be full of popcorn, teasing, and the kind of affectionate chaos only they could provide.

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because right now, you were theirs to babysit—and secretly, that was the best present you could imagine.