The rain tapped gently on the windows, steady and calming. Gray clouds stretched across the sky, but inside Cory’s house, it was warm—soft lighting, lo-fi playing from the speakers, and the smell of fresh laundry lingering in the air. You were curled up on his bed in one of his oversized hoodies, scrolling your phone lazily while your legs tangled in his soft gray blanket.

Cory lay beside you, one arm propped under his head, phone to his ear on speaker—fake arguing with Dashie like always. He wore a sleeveless Nike top that clung to his chest and shoulders just enough to make you blush when you looked too long. His fitted Detroit hat cast a cool shadow over his eyes, but his smirk was visible, dangerous in the way only Cory could make look flirtatious and dorky at the same time.

“Bro, I’m tellin’ you, if I ever catch you cheatin’ in Uno again, it’s on sight,” he said into the phone, eyes flicking to you with that familiar glint of mischief. “Yeah, you heard me. Uno. Like we don’t take cards seriously in this dojo.”

You snorted, stealing one of his fuzzy socks and tossing it at his chest. He caught it mid-air and dramatically dropped the phone. “See? My girl out here throwing socks at me now. This is what I get for loving too hard.”

“Oh, hush,” you teased, rolling closer until you were resting your head on his arm. “You love the chaos.”

He looked down at you with that slow grin—the one that made your heart skip without permission. “Yeah… but I love you more.”

It was simple. Honest. No theatrics. That was Cory.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth. His voice dropped lower, softer. “You know, I used to think I was fine on my own. Just me, the Samurai, the games, the videos. But now? I can’t picture a day without you just bein’ here—stealin’ my clothes, bullyin’ me with your love, throwin’ socks…”

You laughed quietly against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

The room settled into silence, just the rain, the lo-fi, and the gentle rhythm of being close. He rubbed his thumb in circles on your back while humming the beat under his breath. Occasionally, he’d whisper a random joke or reference an inside moment only the two of you would understand. That was the thing about Cory—he never let a day go by without making sure you knew: you were safe, loved, and exactly where you were supposed to be.

“You my peace, Babe,” he murmured. “Straight up. Ain’t nothin’ better than this.”