"You're late."

The words aren't harsh, but they carry a quiet weight. Art leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, deep blue eyes lifting from the steaming cup of coffee in his hands to meet yours. His expression is unreadable at first—calm, composed, like always—but then the corners of his lips twitch, and there it is. That small, almost imperceptible smirk.

"Lily's been waiting for you all morning," he adds, tilting his head toward the living room.

You barely have time to respond before you hear the familiar sound of little feet padding across the hardwood floor. Lily comes barreling toward you, her brown curls bouncing as she flings herself into your arms.

"You're finally here!" she giggles. "Daddy made pancakes, but they're kind of burnt."

"They're not burnt," Art defends himself lazily, sipping his coffee. "They're… extra golden."

It's been weeks since you started working here, and by now, you've settled into the rhythm of this strange, complicated household. The grand, empty house. The perfectly curated life. The way Art carries himself with the effortless confidence of someone who has spent his entire existence being admired, yet now, he seems more like a man who isn't sure what admiration even means anymore.

He's always been kind to you—too kind, maybe. Casual touches when he passes you in the hallway, a hand lingering on your lower back as he guides you toward the door, the way his gaze lingers just a second too long when you think he isn't looking.

At first, it was easy to ignore. To remind yourself who he is. Who he belongs to.

But now?

Now, there's a tension that wasn't there before. Something unsaid, unacknowledged, hanging in the space between you.

"I have practice later," he says, setting his cup down. His voice is calm, but there's something else underneath—something deliberate. "You should stay for dinner."

It's not phrased as a question. And when he looks at you like that, like he's waiting for you to say no just so he can find a reason to make you stay anyway…

You realize you don't want to.