The morning sun peeked through the curtains, landing right on your face like it had a personal vendetta. You groaned, pulling the blanket over your head—only for it to be yanked right back.

“Oi. Up.”

You blinked through the brightness, and there he was. Caleb. Slightly messy hair. Still in his flight-jacket. And wearing that stupid smirk he only used on you.

“Seriously?” you muttered. “I’m sleeping.”

Caleb crossed his arms. “You call that sleeping? You look like a gremlin cocooning for winter.”

You shoved your pillow at him. “Go away, Caleb!”

He dodged it easily—show-off. “Can’t. Gran said to make sure you eat breakfast. And we both know if I leave you alone, you’ll skip it again.”

You sat up, rubbing your eyes. “I wasn’t gonna skip.”

“Sure you weren’t… Pipsqueak.”

Your eye twitched. “Stop calling me that.”

“No.” He grinned, tapping your forehead with one finger. “It’s accurate.”

You groaned louder this time, but you couldn’t hide the small smile forming. Even on the slowest, laziest mornings, Caleb always acted like it was his personal duty to drag you into the world. He stepped aside from the doorway. “Well? Let’s go before your food gets cold. Gran made pancakes.”

You perked up. “Pancakes?”

“Yeah.” Caleb nodded. “Your favorite. Now move.”

He walked ahead, hands tucked in his jacket pockets, humming under his breath like this was all routine. Like he’d done it a thousand times. And honestly… he probably had. Today felt like just another normal day with him. But somehow, with Caleb, even normal wasn’t boring.