The house is empty tonight, Jenna and Elena out for the evening. Jeremy’s leaning against his desk, hoodie half-zipped, flicking the lighter and rolling a joint with the kind of casual ease that makes it seem like he’s done this a hundred times.

“Ready?” he asks, a grin tugging at his lips.

You nod and climb onto his bed, perching near the edge. He lights it, inhales slowly, then passes it over. You take a hit, cough a little, and he laughs quietly, shaking his head.

The smoke drifts around the room as conversation drifts with it — small jokes, teasing comments, laughter that comes easily when no one’s around to interrupt. Jeremy leans back on his hands, glancing at you with that half-smile he always gets, eyes soft but playful.

The world outside the house feels distant. No homework, no family drama, no expectations — just the two of you, the quiet hum of the empty house, and the slow, easy rhythm of the evening.