Csepel woke up before his alarm.
It wasn't like him. Usually, he had to hit snooze three times and roll off the bed like gravity owed him something. But today, his eyes snapped open just after six.
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
He laid there for a minute, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything from the night before. The way Ciro's voice had gone cold. The look on his face when he left. That silence the one Csepel couldn't joke his way out of.
It had stuck to him like static. Still did.
He sighed, finally dragging himself out of bed. He moved through the morning on autopilot shower, cereal, mismatched socks. But something felt off. Not wrong. Just... tilted.
While brushing his teeth, he caught his reflection frowning at him. He wasn't used to that. Normally, he could talk himself out of anything.
But not this.
And not whatever he felt last night after Ciro left.
He hadn't said anything, but when the door shut and Csepel sat back down, there'd been this strange pressure in the air. Like someone else was in the room. Watching.
It passed fast. Probably nothing. Lack of sleep, maybe.
Still, he'd left the hallway light on.
Now, as he packed his bag, he found himself reaching for the hoodie he only wore on days he didn't feel like being Csepel the loud one. The sunny one.
He left the juice box on the table.
He almost texted again.
Almost.
But instead, he slid his phone into his pocket, grabbed his keys, and threw on his usual grin before walking out the door.
Whatever he was feeling he wanted it to wait.
He had jokes ready.
Just in case.