Theodore washed. Candice dried.
For a while neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the gentle clink of plates and the steady rain against the kitchen windows. Theodore worked with the same quiet focus he always had — sleeves still rolled, jaw relaxed, movements precise. It was almost peaceful.
Almost.
"You know they're all still awake," he said eventually, not looking at her. "Pretending to do other things while they wait to see if you actually stay put."
Candice stacked another clean plate. "I figured."
He glanced sideways at her. "Sam most of all. He's been the worst about it."
She didn't need him to explain. She already knew.
Theodore shut off the water and dried his hands on a dish towel. He leaned back against the counter, arms folded, studying her the way he used to when they were younger and she was trying to hide something.
"You look fit..." he said, trying not to look at her curves
"I know."
"And tired."
"Also know."
A small, almost reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Still stubborn, though."
Candice gave a soft huff of laughter. "Some things don't change."
Theodore's expression sobered again. He reached out and gently tugged the towel from her hands, setting it aside.
"We're not the same boys you left, Candice." His voice was quiet but firm. "Two years is a long time. We got harder in places. More… territorial." He chose the word carefully. "Especially when it comes to you."
She felt the weight of that settle in her chest.
"I can see that."
"Good." He stepped closer, close enough that she had to tip her chin up slightly. "Because none of us are interested in being careful anymore. Not after waiting this long."
She didn't know that that sentence meant a lot of things, he just didn't say them out loud.
Candice's pulse kicked harder.
Before she could answer, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Sam appeared in the doorway, dark eyes moving between them. He didn't look surprised to find them still there. If anything, he looked like he'd been timing it.
"You two done?" he asked.
Theodore didn't step back. "Almost."
Sam's gaze lingered on Candice a second longer than necessary. "Derick and William are in the living room. Joshua's already claimed the couch. Richard outside smoking. David's upstairs." He paused. "You should come sit with us for a bit. Before you disappear into your room again."
It wasn't quite an order.
But it wasn't a suggestion either.
Candice glanced at Theodore the same way she did when she was little and Sam denied her of something. He gave her a small nod, as if to say go.
She followed Sam out of the kitchen.
The living room lights were low. Joshua was stretched across one end of the large couch, phone in hand but not really looking at it. William sat in the armchair nearest the fireplace, long legs crossed at the ankle. Derick occupied the other end of the couch, one arm draped along the back. The moment Candice entered, all three of them looked up.
Sam didn't sit. He simply stood near the doorway, watching as she hesitated.
William was the one who spoke.
"There's space here." He nodded to the middle of the couch, between Joshua and Derick.
Candice walked over and sat.
The second she did, the atmosphere shifted again — subtle, but unmistakable. Joshua's shoulder brushed hers as he adjusted. Derick's arm stayed where it was along the back of the couch, close enough that she could feel the heat of him. William's eyes stayed on her face, calm and unreadable.
Sam finally moved. He took the remaining armchair across from them, elbows on his knees, watching her like he was still making sure she was real.
Outside, the rain kept falling.
This is kinda awkward, I rubbed my thigh.
Inside, the seven of them — and the quiet claim that had never really left — settled in around her.
Candice exhaled slowly.
She was home.
And this time, they weren't going to let her forget it.
Minutes stretched.
No one reached for the remote. No one suggested music. The only sound was the rain and the occasional soft shift of someone adjusting on the couch.
Candice sat between Joshua and Derick, very aware of the heat on either side of her. Joshua's thigh pressed lightly against hers. Derick's fingers rested just behind her shoulder on the back of the couch, close enough that if she leaned back even slightly she would feel them.
William watched her from the armchair, quiet and steady. Sam remained opposite them, elbows still on his knees, dark eyes never leaving her face for long.
The front door opened and closed.
Richard walked in, the scent of cigarette smoke clinging faintly to his jacket. No one knew when he went out. He paused when he saw the arrangement in the living room, then gave a short, humourless huff.
"Started the family meeting without me?"
Joshua didn't look up. "You're late."
Richard shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the nearest chair. His gaze landed on Candice and stayed there a beat too long.
"You settling in all right?" he asked, voice rougher than the others. He doesn't really have an emotion, this guy.
She nodded. "Yeah."
He studied her for another second, then dropped into the remaining space on the floor near the fireplace, back against the wall, one knee bent. Close enough to keep her in his line of sight.
Theodore appeared a few minutes later with two mugs of tea. He set one on the low table in front of Candice without a word, then took the last empty seat.
Only David was still missing.
Candice wrapped her hands around the warm mug. The silence that followed wasn't empty. It was full — of things unsaid, of 2 years that had stretched too long, of seven people who had decided she belonged here and were no longer interested in pretending otherwise.
Richard's fingers finally moved. Just a little. The tips brushed the back of her neck, light and deliberate, then settled again.
Candice's breath caught.
No one commented.
Sam's voice cut through the quiet, low and even.
"You're not sleeping alone tonight."
The words were calm. Absolute.
Joshua's head turned slightly toward her. William's gaze sharpened. Derick stopped tapping his fingers against his knee.
Candice looked at Sam.
"What?"
"You heard me." He didn't raise his voice. "Two years was long enough. We're not doing the careful version anymore. One of us stays in your room. Or you stay in one of ours. Your choice."
"I'm staying in her room tonight!!" David yelled from wherever he was.
Theodore didn't disagree. Neither did anyone else.
Candice's pulse hammered in her throat.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Derick's fingers traced a slow, almost absent line along the side of her neck.
"We're not asking, Candice," he said quietly.
Outside, thunder rolled somewhere far off.
Inside, seven pairs of eyes waited for her answer.