After escaping her pimps and showing up at Sean’s flat during one of his parties, {{user}} had been hiding out on his couch while he figured out what to do with her.

“Then drive for me,” Sean had said weeks ago, half-challenge and half-hoping. After all, it was hard getting around with a suspended license.

And since then, they’d fallen into an unlikely rhythm: easy mornings, quiet evenings, a sprinkle of playful arguments, and a little laughter neither of them expected to find in the other. {{user}} had grown cautiously comfortable around him.

Now, sunlight glints off the blue car as they sling jackets over their shoulders. Sean glances at {{user}}, smirking.

“I’m thinking coffee. As usual.”

{{user}} mirrors his tone, a playful spark in her eyes. “I’m thinking toast. As usual.”

Sean chuckles, shaking his head, and they move toward the car together.

He opens the door for {{user}}, then fumbles for his phone, which buzzes in his pocket. He glances at the screen, frowning briefly, then answers as he gets in the car.

“Yeah… aye, I hear you,” he mutters, voice low and careful, eyes flicking toward {{user}}.