Back inside, the house welcomed them with cool air and the familiar scent of wood and something faintly herbal—maybe the way sun warmed the walls, or how Mr. Dand's herbs clung faintly to the beams. Billy toed off his shoes near the door, stretching his arms up with a yawn as Artur passed him a towel from the rack.
"That sun really kissed you today," Artur said, squinting at the faint flush blooming across Billy's cheeks and nose.
Billy smirked. "Sun's got good taste."
Artur chuckled, shaking his head, and they wandered into the kitchen. Billy opened the window above the sink, letting in the breeze and golden light. The table was empty, no chores in sight for once. A rare, welcome stillness filled the air.
"Feels weird not hearing Dad's footsteps around," Artur said, grabbing two cups and setting them down.
Billy leaned against the counter, watching him. "Yeah. Quiet."
"But not bad quiet," Artur added, sliding a glass of cool water toward him.
