Chapter 25

Nani Hirunkit

The morning after settling in feels... strange. It's not bad, just different. Dew and Win are already up, as usual, making noise in the kitchen. I can hear Dew humming something, probably a song, while Win grumbles about whatever Dew's decided to try cooking for breakfast this time. It's chaotic in that familiar way, and I can't help but smile, even if I'm still adjusting to the idea of living here for a while.

I step out of the spare room and stretch, the weight of last night's exhaustion still in my body. As I make my way to the kitchen, I find Dew standing at the stove, holding a spatula like he's conducting an orchestra, while Win stands with his arms crossed, watching him with a disapproving but fond look.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Dew says, flashing me a grin. "You finally awake? The breakfast of champions is ready."

I raise an eyebrow, eyeing the slightly burnt toast and scrambled eggs that seem a little too much like something I could've made. "What's this? Are we testing our luck today?"

Win rolls his eyes but still walks over to pour me a cup of coffee. "It's edible, barely. Don't expect gourmet from Dew."

I take the cup, appreciating the gesture more than I'd admit. "Thanks. And thanks for not making me starve today."

Dew dramatically places a plate in front of me. "You underestimate my skills, my beloved son. Eat up, and we'll see if you survive this breakfast."

I chuckle and dig in, the food surprisingly not as bad as I expected. Maybe Dew's secretly a better cook than he lets on.

"So, are you gonna do anything today, or are you just gonna lounge around and live off our generosity?" Win asks as he leans against the counter, looking at me with his usual playful stare.

I shrug, not really sure what to say. "I was thinking about unpacking the rest of my things, getting settled in."

Dew bounces up and down like he's just heard the best news. "Yes! Get settled. Get comfortable. This is your home now! And we're your parents, so you're stuck with us for the long haul."

I snort, shaking my head. "Stop calling me your son, Dew. It's weird."

"Not happening," he says with a grin, winking as he grabs a piece of toast. "We'll make it work. You'll see. In no time, you won't even want to leave."

Win shoots me a look. "He's not wrong, you know. We've practically adopted you."

I look between them, their easy banter filling the space, and for the first time since I arrived, I feel this tiny knot of relief unwind in my chest. They really do make things easier. I didn't realize how much I needed that until now.

After breakfast, I stand up to help clean up, but Dew shoos me away dramatically.

"Nope, you've got a new job here now," Dew says, "you're the designated guest."

"I didn't sign up for this," I tease, but I let him do all the work while I lean back and relax on the couch.

As Dew hums to himself, grabbing dishes and rinsing them, Win lounges next to me. He nudges me with his elbow. "So, are you really sticking around for a while? Because if you're just passing through, we might have to take advantage of this and mess with you a bit more."

I grin, feeling the weight of everything finally lifting. "I'm not going anywhere. I think I've found my place for now."

Win raises an eyebrow, arms crossed. "Are you sure? Because we were the ones who told you to live here. You're the one who wanted to rent out a dorm."

I glance over at Dew, who is still happily doing dishes while muttering to himself. "Yeah, well... guess you both got your way."

It feels weird saying it out loud. But it also feels right.

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After breakfast, I retreated to the spare room—my room now, I guess. It still felt strange to think of it that way, but with each bag I unpacked, the reality of it settled in a little more. The room wasn't big, but it was cozy. Dew and Win had even set up a small shelf for my things, like they expected me to stay long-term. I hadn't decided if that made me feel comforted or uneasy.

I pulled out a stack of folded shirts and started placing them in the drawer when a knock came at the door. Before I could answer, Dew stepped in, holding something behind his back. His usual smirk was in place, but there was a glint of something softer in his eyes.

"What is it?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

Dew dramatically pulled the hidden object into view—a My Melody plushie. Bright pink, soft, and absolutely ridiculous.

I blinked. "What—?"

"You thought I was joking, didn't you?" he said, stepping closer and pressing the plushie against my chest. "I told you I'd get you one."

I stared down at it. He had said that two days ago—told me he'd get me a My Melody plushie if I actually came back. I thought he was just messing around, using it as some dumb incentive. But here it was, real and in my hands.

For a moment, I didn't know what to say. The warmth that spread in my chest was unexpected, and I hated that it made my throat feel tight.

"I—" I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to stay neutral. "You really bought this?"

Dew shrugged. "Of course. You looked like you wanted to steal that one from the claw machine last time—well, a few months ago—so I figured I'd save you the trouble."

I tightened my grip on the plushie, fingers sinking into the soft fabric. "Dew—"

"No need to thank me," he interrupted with a lazy grin. "But if you feel like showing your gratitude, you can do the dishes tonight."

I rolled my eyes, but I could still feel the stupid warmth lingering inside me. "I take it back. You're the worst."

Dew just chuckled, ruffling my hair like I was a kid before stepping back toward the door. "Whatever you say, My Melody."

I threw a balled-up sock at him. He dodged it effortlessly, laughing as he left the room.

I looked down at the plushie again, running my fingers over its ears. My chest still felt too full, but I let myself hold onto it a little tighter.