The afternoon sun spilled warm golden light through the windows, casting a soft haze over the quiet house. The silence between them was easy, comforting — until a sudden, loud grrrowl broke it.
Billy turned his head sharply toward Artur, who sat sprawled lazily on the couch, a hand pressed over his stomach in mild embarrassment.
Billy blinked at him once, then smirked.
"Well, someone's hungry."
Artur shrugged defensively.
"Not my fault you wore me out today," he grumbled, stretching his legs out even further, as if that would hide the very obvious rumble of his stomach.
Billy chuckled softly, tossing the dish rag over his shoulder.
"Fine, I'll cook something," he said, pushing off the counter with an easy grace. "You just sit there and look pretty."
Artur's lips curved into a slow, teasing smile.
"I can do that."
True to his word, Artur didn't lift a finger to help.
