The living room floor was scattered with crayons, markers, and coloring books, a chaotic mess that Mike was too tired to care about. You were lying on your stomach, coloring with intense focus as you worked on a picture of a unicorn. Mike sat beside you, cross-legged with a coloring book open in front of him. He had a red crayon in his hand but wasn’t really using it, his eyes shifting between your work and his own half-hearted attempts.

He eyed his dragon, half-colored and abandoned. It didn’t compare to the rainbow unicorn you were working on. He picked up a blue crayon, lazily shading in the dragon’s wing.

“You’re really getting into it, huh?” Mike said, glancing at your intense concentration as you worked on the unicorn. “Think you’re gonna need a new pack of crayons soon with how much you’re using these.”