After me, Jace stepped forward and hugged him, his arms wrapping around Drake with that rare kind of affection Jace doesn't show to just anyone.
Drake chuckled, patting Jace's back before squeezing his shoulder.
"younger brother… you're getting taller every time I see you," he said warmly.
Jace laughed, a little sheepishly, like he didn't know what to say.
From behind, Cleo cleared her throat sharply.
"Drake, let's go. Help me serve before everything gets cold."
Reluctantly, Drake stepped away from us, and the three of us returned to our seats.
A few minutes later, Cleo and Drake placed the dishes in front of us—plates clinking softly against the table—before heading to the hall.
"If you need anything, just call us ," Cleo said, waving her hand without looking back.
For a moment, the table fell into silence, the aroma of freshly cooked food filling the air.
It was Aven who broke it first.
"I haven't seen them in a whole year," he said, almost in awe.
Zim let out a low whistle, her tone heavy.
"Yeah… lucky you did."
Leo and Thea exchanged confused glances, clearly out of the loop.
But Nova… Nova's eyes were wide like she'd just spotted a celebrity. She leaned back in her chair with a smirk.
"Damn… if Drake was single…" she teased.
That cracked the table instantly—everyone started laughing.
Leo, though, only smirked faintly, but I could see that tiny flicker of irritation in his eyes.
Thea turned to me. "Wait—so that's your brother-in-law, Kael?"
Jace and I both nodded at the same time.
Thea grinned wide, leaning over to high-five Nova. "Okay, I get it. I fully approve."
Aven choked mid-bite, coughing as his food got stuck.
Jace thumped his back, half laughing, half scolding. "Eat properly, man!"
Then Jace gave Thea a warning look.
"My sister will scratch your eyes out if she hears that."
That sent the whole table into another wave of laughter, the easy kind that makes you forget time.
It almost felt like nothing had changed… except I couldn't ignore how Leo's foot brushed against mine under the table—deliberate, unhurried.
And even in all that noise, my heartbeat was the loudest thing I could hear.
After dinner, we all drifted toward the hall, still chatting and laughing in that warm, lazy post-meal haze.
Drake and Cleo were there, already dressed for their trip—bags packed, coats on, that familiar excitement in their eyes.
Drake walked over to me first. Without saying anything, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.
"Baby… take care of yourself while we're gone, alright?" His voice was low but filled with that protective warmth that always made my chest ache in the best way.
Cleo followed right after, cupping my cheek for a moment and saying the exact same thing, her tone more motherly but no less sincere.
We watched as they stepped out together, waving one last time before disappearing beyond the doorway.
The silence lasted for only a few seconds.
Then Jace clapped his hands once, grinning like the troublemaker he is.
"Well… they're gone. Time to celebrate."
Before I could even ask what he meant, he was already dialing on his phone, ordering three large pizzas without batting an eye.
And as if that wasn't enough, he dragged Nova with him down to the storage room beneath the hall.
A few minutes later, they came back—Nova's smirk giving everything away before I even saw what they were holding.
Two bottles of wine in one hand.
A bottle of vodka in the other.
The room instantly lit up with cheers and laughter.
Zim practically bounced on the couch, Thea grinned like she'd just been handed a loaded weapon, and even Leo's eyes glinted with amusement.
That's the thing about us—give us food, drinks, and no supervision…
and we'll turn an ordinary night into something unforgettable.
The music was blasting loud enough to make the floor vibrate, laughter mixing with the beat, voices overlapping in that beautiful chaos we always created together.
But then—Leo's phone rang.
The sharp tone cut through the noise, and I noticed the way his shoulders stiffened.
Without a word, he lifted a hand, gesturing for everyone to quiet down.
The music lowered, conversations faded, and one by one, eyes turned toward him.
Leo glanced at the screen, and something in his expression shifted—just slightly, but enough for me to notice. The usual cocky, untouchable smirk was gone.
Instead, there was this… heaviness.
He answered, voice low, walking a few steps away from the group.
Even from here, I could tell—he wasn't talking like the confident troublemaker we all knew.
He sounded almost… distant.
Zim nudged me, whispering, "Why's he so serious all of a sudden?"
I didn't answer.
Because in that moment, watching him with his head lowered, phone pressed to his ear, and his free hand flexing at his side…
I had a feeling this wasn't just a casual call.
Something was wrong.
And whatever it was—it had just pulled Leo somewhere far away from our noisy, drunken little world.
He came back, tension written all over his face, and said in a rush, "I've gotta go. My brother's been looking for me like a madman."
Thea rolled her eyes so hard it was almost theatrical. "What do you mean your brother is still the same, even after all these years?"
We didn't know what she meant, but hearing it sent a strange ripple through the air—like something wasn't right.
Before any of us could ask, Leo muttered a quick "bye," already halfway to the door.
He didn't even wait for us to respond, just turned and jogged out, calling over his shoulder, "I'll be back soon, alright? Till then—bye, bye."
The way he left… it wasn't casual.
It was hurried. Urgent.
Like whatever was waiting for him outside was far more dangerous than any of us realized.
We all just stood there for a moment, stunned by how abruptly Leo had left.
The room felt heavier… quieter.
But leave it to Zim to break that silence with her trademark chaos.
Like flipping a switch, she launched straight back into her madness.
We were all drunk—drunk enough that our logic had packed its bags and left hours ago.
That's when Thea, completely in her own world, climbed up onto the couch like it was her stage.
She pointed dramatically at the sleeping Aven and yelled at the top of her lungs,
"Aven Sinclair! How dare you try to betray me?!"
The poor guy was passed out cold from drinking too much.
Nova was frantically trying to shush Thea before she woke the dead, but it was like trying to calm a thunderstorm with a whisper.
Me? I was no help at all.
I just sat there, phone in hand, recording every second of it because drunk drama in broad daylight was gold.
We'd been drinking since midday, and by now, the whole living room was a haze of laughter, shouting, and the kind of shamelessness only alcohol can give.
By the time I glanced at the clock, the bright day had already melted into a golden evening—it was somehow five o'clock.
And we were still drunk.
Still loud.
Still drowning in that wild, stupid, perfect chaos.
Jace suddenly woke up, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and without saying much, he reached over and switched off the music.
The loud, chaotic energy of the room died instantly, replaced by the soft rustle of empty chip packets and the low hum of the fridge.
Then, to my utter shock, he started… cleaning.
Like actually bending down, picking up bottles, stacking plates—Jace. The human hurricane. Cleaning.
I wasn't the only one who froze. Nova's jaw literally dropped.
She walked over, pinched his arm, and squinted at him suspiciously.
"What happened to you?" she asked.
Jace winced at the pinch, muttering,
"Nothing happened to me. But if this place isn't spotless by the time Cleo gets home, she's going to kill me. And I'm not dying today."
Without even realizing, I found myself getting up and helping him, still side-eyeing him like he might secretly be possessed.
Nova sighed and joined in, grabbing empty glasses from the table.
Zim was completely knocked out, sprawled across the couch like a corpse after a war.
Aven was half-awake, hair sticking up, looking around in confusion like he wasn't sure if it was morning or night.
Thea… well, Thea was trying to help, but every step she took wobbled like she was on a sinking ship.
It wasn't perfect teamwork.
But it was ours—messy, sleepy, and still a little drunk.