The next day.
Amon and Yue sat together at the dining table, their breakfast laid out neatly before them, though neither seemed particularly focused on the food.
What truly filled the space between them was not just the scent of fresh bread and brewed tea, but the soft, magnetic pull of their deepening bond. Their chairs, once respectfully spaced, now barely had a breath of air between them. The couple sat so closely that their shoulders touched, as though gravity itself had conspired to draw them together since their heartfelt exchange the previous day.
Across the table, Arya and Bawi picked at their plates. Their appetites were waning—not for lack of good food, but perhaps because they had already consumed more than their fill of the syrupy affection Yue had been showering upon Amon.
