Dean found Sebastian in the sitting room overlooking the back gardens, the late afternoon sun cutting soft gold across the floor. The room felt normal again. No fever in the air. No frantic footsteps in the hallway. No medical carts waiting nearby like silent threats. The house had settled, and for the first time all week, Dean could walk without his knees wobbling.
Sebastian sat on the couch with his long legs stretched out, reading something on his tablet with the same unbothered elegance he'd inherited straight from Trevor. The green of his eyes brightened the moment he saw Dean approach.
"Look who's upright," he said, closing the tablet with a soft click. "Congratulations. You've survived your own biology."
Dean dropped onto the opposite end of the couch and leaned back into the cushions with a sigh. "Barely."
"You look better," Sebastian said. "Less like you're about to start hissing at people."
"That happened one time," Dean muttered.
"Twice," Sebastian corrected.
