[Alexander's Penthouse]
The penthouse felt different with people in it.
Not quieter, Alexander had never lived quietly, it felt warmer. I was like the space finally remembered it was meant to hold more than just glass, steel and silence.
Evelyn moved slowly around the living area, setting her bag down, straightening a cushion that didn't need straightening, checking the temperature like she had already decided this place was temporarily hers.
Alexander watched her from the couch with one arm resting carefully against his side and a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"You are organizing too much today," he noted. "Why do I feel like it's dangerous?"
She shot him a look over her shoulder. "You live like a man who expects staff to magically fix everything."
"I do have staff."
"Yes," she agreed sweetly, "and yet I am still fixing things."
