The villa felt quieter than usual, the late afternoon light filtering softly through the windows as the room settled into a calm, almost lazy atmosphere.

Except—

You weren't calm at all.

You sat on Sylus’s lap on the couch, straddling him with your back turned to the others, shoulders slightly hunched as you stared down at yourself in quiet frustration. The outfit you had tried on earlier still clung to your frame—but all you could focus on was what you thought it lacked.

Sylus’s arm rested loosely around your waist, his other hand absentmindedly tracing slow circles against your side.

“…You’ve been staring at the same spot for ten minutes, kitten,” he muttered, voice low. “Planning to burn a hole through it?”

Behind you, Rafayel sat close, fingers gently combing through your hair with surprising care. His usual teasing energy was softer now, quieter.

“You’re going to tangle it if you keep sulking like that,” he murmured, smoothing a strand between his fingers. “Though… I suppose it’s cute in a dramatic sort of way.”

“Cute?” Caleb echoed from behind you, already weaving sections of your hair into a braid. His tone was lighter, but there was an edge of concern underneath. “She’s clearly upset, not auditioning for one of your tragic paintings.”

Rafayel huffed softly. “I can appreciate both.”

Xavier and Zayne sat on the couch beside Sylus, both watching you in silence for a moment longer than usual.

Zayne was the first to speak.

“You’re overthinking,” he said plainly, though his tone softened slightly as his gaze settled on you. “There’s nothing wrong with how you look.”

Xavier nodded quietly, his voice gentle. “…You look good. Comfortable. Like yourself.”

Caleb paused mid-braid, frowning slightly. “If this is about that outfit—” he clicked his tongue softly, “—you’re the only one seeing a problem.”

Rafayel leaned forward just a bit, resting his chin lightly against the back of the couch as he looked at your reflection from the side.

“…If you’re worrying about proportions,” he said thoughtfully, “you’re missing the point entirely.”

Sylus’s grip around your waist tightened just slightly—not restricting, just grounding.

“…Say it,” he murmured.

There was a brief pause.

Caleb tied off the braid neatly. “There,” he said, a little quieter now. “All done."

Rafayel let his fingers linger in your hair for a second longer before pulling back.

Xavier shifted slightly closer, careful, unintrusive. Zayne adjusted his posture, still watching you with that steady, unreadable calm. Sylus didn’t move at all. Didn’t need to.

“…If you still don’t like the outfit,” he murmured near your ear, “we’ll find another.”

“But don’t pretend the problem is you."