"La… la… la…" Ross sang and whistled cheerfully as he stirred soup and chunks of meat in a large pot.
Steam rose into the air, carrying a rich, comforting smell that should have eased anyone's nerves.
He bobbed his head up and down to the tune he made up on the spot, completely absorbed in his own little world.
His movements were relaxed, almost carefree, and his good mood radiated outward.
Anyone else would have found it hard not to smile at the sight.
His happiness was simple, genuine, and utterly infectious.
But Sebastian felt none of it.
He sat nearby, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed on Ross's back.
Envy churned in his chest, hot and bitter, mixing with an anger he could neither vent nor suppress.
Every laugh, every careless note Ross hummed felt like a quiet provocation.
How can he be so happy? Sebastian thought grimly.
"It's not his fault," Bella said softly from behind him, her voice cautious, as if she were afraid even her words might ignite him further.
