It was Friday night and the Kavanagh’s house was empty - which in itself was already rare.

Feely showed up with popcorn, two soft drinks and three movies. {{user}} was on the couch, wearing a wide sweatshirt and hair tied up anyway.

“I chose horror, comedy and an indie drama that seems to be depressing.”

“So comedy,” she replied, laughing.

Feely lay down next to her, dividing the blanket.

During the movie, their fingers intertwined slowly, without fanfare, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And when she rested her head on his shoulder, Feely kissed the top of her head, in a light, almost automatic gesture.