I woke to warmth.
Not the oppressive, suffocating heat of a courtroom packed with tension, nor the scorching blaze of a fire waiting to be tamed. This was something softer. Something grounding.
Camille.
Her body was tucked against mine, steady breaths fanning lightly against my collar. Her weight was familiar, a gentle pressure that anchored me to the present.
A blanket had been draped over us, one that I knew neither of us had placed. I shifted my gaze, spotting Camille's Mr. Dust outfit neatly folded on the chair beside the desk. Next to it—Sienna's firefighter gear, also folded with quiet care.
A small, knowing smile tugged at my lips.
Sienna.
Even in exhaustion, she had looked after us.
The room was quiet, bathed in the pale light of early morning. Outside the apartment's walls, the world still stirred with the aftermath of the trial, the media no doubt clawing at every angle they could find. But in here, none of that mattered.
Camille shifted slightly, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. But she didn't wake.
She needed the rest.
I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, letting myself sink into the rare stillness of the moment.
Then—
A notification flickered at the edge of my vision.
I didn't have to open it to know what it was.
A new job. A new path. A new cycle of growth and challenges, the system endlessly pushing me forward.
For the first time in a long while… I ignored it.
I had spent nearly a year in space. Then another 2 months completely consumed by repairing my body and the trial.
For once, I wasn't going to chase the next step.
For once, I was going to be here.
With them.
I carefully untangled myself from Camille, shifting her so she could rest more comfortably. She mumbled something incoherent but didn't wake.
Stepping out of the office, I made my way to the kitchen.
The scent of tea greeted me before I saw her.
Sienna stood by the counter, steam rising from a delicate porcelain cup. Loose strands of auburn hair framed her face, and when she turned, her warm brown eyes softened at the sight of me.
"Morning," she murmured. "Did you sleep well?"
I exhaled, stretching out my shoulders. "Better than I expected."
Her gaze flickered past me, toward the office door, and a small, knowing smile played on her lips. "You needed it."
My eyes landed on the blanket draped over one of the chairs. I smirked. "That was you, wasn't it?"
She hummed, taking a sip of her tea. "You'd do the same for us."
Simple. Honest.
I felt something settle in my chest, a quiet warmth that had nothing to do with the tea.
Alexis was already making herself at home.
I walked into the common area to find the space buried in research materials. Papers were stacked haphazardly, books open to various pages, and what looked like an anatomical diagram of my own body pinned to the wall.
I stared.
She turned to me, bright-eyed and unbothered, holding a pen between her fingers. "Good. You're awake."
I sighed. "Why do I feel like I should be worried?"
She grinned. "Because you should be."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You're moving in, aren't you?"
"Obviously." She gestured around at the mess she had already made. "Where else would I conduct my research?"
"You mean my suffering."
"I mean science."
Camille's voice cut in before I could respond, still groggy from sleep. "You're basically her lab rat now."
I turned, watching as she stretched lazily against the doorway, her mask finally discarded. She looked more like herself again—mischievous, amused, but lighter than yesterday.
I huffed. "Great. At first I was Mr. Fox, Dust and Angel, and now I'm Mr. Leviathan and a test subject."
Alexis scribbled something in her notebook. "That's actually an interesting perspective. Would you say your mind perceives these roles differently?"
I pointed at her. "You're insufferable."
She beamed. "You love it."
Sienna chuckled, setting plates on the table. "Enough talking. Eat."
I sighed, surrendering.
For the first time in weeks, there was no mission. No strategy. No pressure.
Breakfast was… normal.
I helped Sienna cook, though she kept swatting my hands away, claiming I was ruining everything. Camille threw in commentary about how my attempts at chopping vegetables were a crime against humanity. Alexis, of course, chimed in with random scientific facts that had absolutely nothing to do with cooking, much to Camille's annoyance.
It was chaotic.
It was familiar.
It was ours.
We decided to spend the day together, finally taking a break from the world. Shopping. Exploring. Just being normal people for once.
Though the city felt different today.
Maybe it was just us—lighter, freer, unburdened. Or maybe it was the way people looked at us. Not as criminals. Not as fugitives. Just as… people.
It was strange. Liberating. Unfamiliar.
And I wasn't about to waste it.
Shopping with Camille was an experience in itself.
The first place she dragged us into was, unsurprisingly, a high-end boutique. The kind with sleek displays, expensive lighting, and price tags that made normal people reconsider their life choices.
Alexis let out a low whistle. "You've got to be kidding me."
Sienna exhaled. "I already regret this."
Camille turned, scandalized. "Excuse me, but we are celebrating our victory in a court of law, and what better way to celebrate than with some well-earned retail therapy?"
I raised a brow. "You just want an excuse to buy more clothes."
She smirked. "Correct."
We spent exactly thirty minutes in that store before Alexis nearly knocked over a mannequin, Sienna gave up and went outside to drink an overpriced tea, and I got dragged into trying on a suit that I was definitely never going to buy.
Camille, however, was in her element.
Her eyes gleamed as she picked out fabrics, inspecting the stitching of certain designs with the precision of a master craftsman. It wasn't just shopping for her—it was art.
And I had to admit—watching her work, even outside of a design studio, was impressive.
Still, I wasn't about to let her get away with everything.
I leaned against a clothing rack. "You know, Camille, this entire store probably carries half your designs under different brand names."
She flicked her hair. "Oh, I know." She grabbed a particularly elegant dress and examined the tag. "This one? I designed it three seasons ago. They just tweaked the stitching pattern."
I stared. "Then why are you shopping here?"
She smirked. "Because it's fun."
Fair enough.
Sienna, predictably, chose something a little more grounded.
We found her at a small outdoor market, browsing through handmade goods and vintage books. She looked far more comfortable here than in Camille's battlefield of overpriced fashion.
I watched as she carefully ran her fingers over the worn leather covers of old novels, her expression thoughtful.
"You actually planning to buy one, or just appreciating the craftsmanship?" I asked.
She glanced at me, amused. "Maybe both."
She picked up an old fairy tale book, flipping through the pages.
"I though you had already memorized every fairy tale by now?" I teased.
Sienna rolled her eyes. "I like collecting things that remind me of simpler times."
Something about that hit deeper than I expected.
I didn't push further.
Instead, I nodded at the book. "You should get it."
She hummed. Then, without a word, she bought it.
Alexis, on the other hand, found joy in the little things.
She was the type to stop at every single street stall, fascinated by whatever was being sold—even if it was completely useless.
At one point, she picked up a small trinket shaped like a cat.
"What is this?" she asked.
The vendor smiled. "A lucky charm. It's supposed to bring good fortune."
Alexis turned it over in her hands, intrigued. "There's no actual scientific basis for luck, though."
Camille groaned. "Alexis. Just buy the damn cat."
Alexis considered it. Then, to our surprise—she actually bought it.
I smirked. "Planning on testing out its luck?"
She pocketed it. "No. Just thought it was cute."
…Huh.
After that the girls went to a bathroom and I simply stood outside.
It was a bit awkward, I was practically pretending to be on my phone while waiting, but then suddenly I actually received a phone call.
It was an unknown number.
I frowned, answering. "Yeah?"
A calm, measured voice greeted me.
"Reynard Vale."
I went still.
"I believe it's time for us to speak in person."
The line went dead.
....You've got to be kidding me.