The night settled heavy in the Winslow house, the air carrying that strange mix of silence and tension that always lingered after too many people had dinner together. Plates were stacked in the sink, the smell of food faint in the air.
Jessi had excused herself first, dragging Zim along with her, muttering about being tired. Nova disappeared right after, claiming she needed rest, and Jace—without a word—vanished to his room like a ghost, leaving only the echo of his footsteps behind.
Now the living room was quieter, dimly lit by the soft glow of the lamp. Leo leaned back on the couch, one arm draped lazily across the backrest. His eyes were half-lidded, his usual sharpness dulled by sleepiness, but he was still awake enough to smirk when Thea sat beside him, clearly dozing off. Her head tilted toward his shoulder unconsciously.
Aven stretched out on the other side of the couch, legs crossed, scrolling lazily on his phone, but his sly little grin told Kael he was observing everything.
Kael sat on the single chair, arms folded, restless. He wasn't tired—his mind was still buzzing, flashing back to everything he'd seen at Leo's place. The faint sound of Thea's quiet breathing only made his chest tighter. He glanced at Aven, who raised an eyebrow like he could read his thoughts.
"You're quiet tonight," Aven teased softly, breaking the silence.
Kael's eyes flicked toward him. "And you're too loud, even when you whisper."
Leo chuckled under his breath, not opening his eyes. "Some things never change."
Thea shifted slightly in her half-sleep, her head leaning more onto Leo's shoulder. For once, Leo didn't move away. His lips twitched into something softer, almost uncharacteristically gentle, but he stayed silent.
The clock ticked in the background, the room filled with a strange mix of comfort and tension—like everyone was waiting for something to break the peace.
The clinking of plates echoed in the kitchen, the once warm dining table now abandoned. Everyone else had vanished into their rooms—Thea and Aven slipping off together, laughing quietly about something only they knew.
That left Kael and Leo.
Kael stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, hot water steaming against his hands as he scrubbed stubborn stains from a plate. His jaw was tight, his mind replaying too many things at once—the gunshot, the blood, the way Leo shielded him earlier. Every scrape of sponge against ceramic felt like trying to scrub the memory off his skin.
Behind him, Leo leaned against the counter with a towel in hand, drying each plate Kael passed to him. He looked irritatingly casual, like this was nothing. His dark shirt clung to him in places where the fabric had gotten damp, his hair falling forward as he moved lazily.
Kael finally broke the silence.
"So… this is your grand life, huh? Mafia s , bloody carpets, and murders ."
Leo smirked faintly, catching the sarcasm. "Balance, don't you think? Can't let life get too boring."
Kael scoffed, scrubbing harder. "You call that balance? I call it—trauma." His voice cracked slightly, betraying more emotion than he wanted to.
For a moment, Leo didn't reply. He just set the plate down carefully, then leaned closer, his voice low but calm.
"If I could, I wouldn't let you see any of it. But you did… and I can't erase it. All I can do is keep you steady."
Kael froze, hands still underwater. His heart skipped at the sincerity buried under Leo's usual smug tone. He turned his head slightly, catching Leo's sharp eyes watching him from too close.
"You're so good at pretending nothing fazes you," Kael muttered, softer now. "But me? I can't. I'm not built like that."
Leo tilted his head, almost smiling, but this time it wasn't mocking—it was… understanding. He took the plate from Kael's trembling hands without asking.
"Then let me carry some of it for you."
The kitchen fell silent again, but this time the weight wasn't as suffocating. Just two boys, standing side by side in the quiet, the world's chaos sealed away outside the kitchen walls.
.
.
.
.
The sink hissed with running water, steam curling into the air. Kael was scrubbing too harshly, frustrated energy bleeding into every movement. A splash of water suddenly jumped up and sprayed across his shirt.
"Shit—" Kael muttered, glaring at the droplets soaking his chest.
Leo, smirking, took the plate from his hands. "You're hopeless. It's just water, Winslow, not acid."
Kael shot him a glare. "Says the guy standing there like he's above it all."
Leo tilted his head mockingly… right before the faucet sputtered and sprayed, catching him square across his shoulder and hair. He froze, strands of dark hair falling over his eyes, shirt clinging to his skin.
Kael bit back a laugh. "Karma."
Leo turned his gaze on him, slow and dangerous. "You think that's funny?" He set the plate down with deliberate calmness, then flicked water from his hand straight at Kael. Droplets hit Kael's face, making him squeak in protest.
"Leo! Are you five?" Kael barked, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand.
Leo's grin widened, boyish but wicked. "Maybe. But you're the one who started this mess."
Before Kael could defend himself, Leo reached past him to grab another dish, their shoulders brushing, wet fabric pressing together for a second too long. Kael's breath hitched—heat sparking under the cold water soaking him.
For a few beats, neither said anything. The air thickened, heavy with more than just steam. Kael finally muttered, almost under his breath,
"This is ridiculous… we're just washing dishes."
Leo's voice was low, teasing but threaded with something softer.
"Then why does it feel like something else?"
The kitchen floor was slick with little drops of water they'd splashed around. Kael, laughing breathlessly as he tried to dodge Leo's revenge splash, suddenly lost his footing.
"Whoa—!"
Before he could hit the ground, Leo lunged to catch him. But the water betrayed them both—their balance gone. With a sharp thud, they crashed down together, Kael pinned beneath Leo.
Kael's eyes went wide, his chest heaving. The world spun for a second before it narrowed to just the weight of Leo pressing against him, damp hair falling into Kael's face, droplets trailing down his jaw.
"Shit—Kael, you okay?" Leo's voice was rough, his palm braced against the floor by Kael's head, their noses only inches apart.
Kael swallowed hard, every nerve in his body screaming at how close Leo was. His words stumbled out, half-sass, half-breathless.
"Y-yeah… but you're heavy, Cassano."
Leo smirked faintly, not moving right away. "Careful. I might take that as a compliment."
Kael shoved at his shoulder, cheeks heating up despite himself. "Get off before I suffocate."
But Leo didn't rush. His gaze lingered, dark and unreadable, scanning Kael's face like he was trying to memorize it. For a heartbeat too long, neither moved—the tension thick, electric, almost unbearable.
Finally, Leo chuckled under his breath, rolling off just enough to let Kael breathe again. But the moment hung between them, unshakable.