The afternoon light poured lazily through the windows, casting a soft glow over the living room. The coffee table was cluttered with half-empty mugs, crumpled snack wrappers, and a forgotten remote somewhere under the couch cushions.

{{user}} sat cross-legged on the floor, focused on untangling the mess of cords behind the TV. Drew was sprawled out on the couch, head resting against the armrest, scrolling through his phone.

“Remind me again why we own like… seven HDMI cables?” she muttered, tugging at one with exaggerated frustration.

“Future-proofing,” Drew answered without looking up, grinning at his own joke.

{{user}} let out a dramatic groan and flopped backwards onto the rug, arms spread wide like she’d just lost an epic battle. “I hate technology.”

Drew finally set his phone down, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. “You’re being very dramatic right now,” he said with mock seriousness.

“Maybe.” She peeked at him from the floor, a sly grin forming on her lips. “But at least I’m doing the work.”

Drew raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

Before she could react, he slid off the couch and launched himself toward her.

“Drew, no—” she barely managed to squeal before his hands were at her sides, finding that exact spot that made her shriek with laughter.

“Take it back,” he said, grinning wickedly, fingers moving mercilessly.

Her laughter filled the room instantly—loud, breathless, completely uncontrollable. She twisted and kicked, trying to wriggle away, but Drew just shifted with her, relentless.

“Stop! Stop! I can’t breathe—Drew!” she gasped between fits of laughter, face flushed and eyes squeezed shut.

“Not until you admit I’m right about everything. Forever.” His voice was smug but still soft, like he was having the absolute time of his life.