The plates weren’t cleaned right away.
They just sat there for a while. Ethan leaned back in the chair with the twins on his lap, one on each leg, both quiet now.
Their fingers traced lazy shapes across his chest and sides while their heads rested softly on his shoulders. There was no need to talk. No need to move.
Eventually, Evelyn shifted a little, sitting up straighter. Her fingers brushed his cheek before she gave him a small smile.
"Alright," she said. "Ti to actually wake up now."
Everly groaned, curling in tighter against his other side. "No. Let’s just stay like this."
Ethan laughed under his breath. "You said that an hour ago."
"Exactly." She grinned but didn’t move.
Evelyn stretched once, then stood, her oversized shirt settling lower again as she pulled her hair behind her ear. "I’ll get the music."
She stepped over to the wall console and tapped through a few options. A light instruntal track started playing through the room—not loud, just enough to fill the space with sothing soft, comfortable, and familiar.
Ethan shifted slightly, making room for Everly to get up too, but she didn’t move. She just looked up at him with a sleepy, amused expression.
"Don’t tell you’re leaving too," she said.
"I haven’t gone anywhere."
"You will. Soon as Evelyn finishes setting the mood, I’ll be abandoned."
He raised an eyebrow. "Setting the mood for what?"
"For more breakfast," Evelyn called out from across the room, walking back toward them with fresh napkins and a light candle that flickered even in the sunlight. "Obviously."
She placed the candle on the table and adjusted the chairs slightly—clearly not for sitting in them.
Then she took a seat again, this ti settling gently onto Ethan’s left leg. Everly finally sat up and mirrored her, taking the right.
Both of them adjusted a little, moving slowly until they were comfortable. Their legs hung loosely over his, thighs pressed lightly against his.
The shirts they wore shifted with each movent, the fabric rising just slightly with how they sat—never too far—just enough to make the air around them feel warr again.
"He makes breakfast," Everly said, poking his side, "then becos the furniture. What a man."
Evelyn smiled and reached for her tea. "It’s only fair. He’s the only one with thighs this comfortable."
Ethan just shook his head slightly, not fighting them. He grabbed the nearby plate with the leftover fruit and offered it forward.
"You’re lucky I’m in a good mood."
"We always are," Everly said, then picked up a piece of strawberry and held it up to his lips. "Say ah."
He let her feed him. He choked slowly. Then he grabbed a fork, poked a slice of honeyed apple, and offered it to Evelyn, who leaned in and took it without a word.
They moved like this for a while. Quiet and close, taking turns feeding each other—little forkfuls, not rushed.
When Evelyn passed him a piece of toast, she rested her fingers against his jaw for a second before letting go.
When Everly offered him another slice of citrus, she leaned forward a bit too far on purpose, her breath warm against his cheek.
Every now and then, one of them kissed him. Not long kisses. Just soft touches. A brush against his skin. A small thank you without words.
The music in the background shifted slightly. It was still gentle but now with a bit more rhythm. It matched the mood: slow, relaxed.
Ethan didn’t say much. He didn’t need to. His arms stayed loosely around their waists, keeping them balanced on his lap as they leaned in, shifted positions, teased each other quietly.
The food gradually disappeared between them.
At one point, Evelyn grabbed the last bite of pancake with a pleased hum, only for Everly to snatch it from her with her fingers and pop it into her own mouth.
"Hey," Evelyn said.
"You were too slow."
"I was chewing."
"Still slow."
Ethan reached out before anything more could happen and grabbed a slice of citrus from the plate, offering it toward Evelyn.
"Peace offering," he said.
She took it, still glaring at her sister. "Not accepted."
Everly smiled, leaning against Ethan’s shoulder. "Accepted or not, I still got the last bite."
Ethan sighed with a small smile. "This is how wars start, you know."
"Over food?" Everly asked.
"Over petty breakfast betrayals," he said, grabbing a napkin and wiping the side of her mouth. "History is full of them."
The mock battle lasted a few more minutes. Evelyn threw a napkin at her sister, who dodged and flicked her empty fork back like a sword.
Ethan got caught in the middle and pretended to be a neutral diplomat, dodging bla and managing ceasefires with strategic slices of fruit.
Eventually, they ran out of both food and montum. The twins settled back against him again, both sighing at the sa ti as if calling a truce.
"You’re warm," Evelyn murmured, nuzzling into the side of his neck.
Everly mirrored her from the other side. "Really warm."
"I was literally under both of you for two hours," he said.
"And we’re doing it again now," Everly added.
"You’re spoiling us," Evelyn said.
He didn’t disagree.
The candle on the table flickered once. The tea was mostly gone. Only a few drops left in each cup. The plates were empty now, just crumbs and sticky bits of fruit skin left behind. But no one moved to clean up.
Ethan leaned back slightly in the chair, his hands resting on their hips. The light from the windows had shifted again.
It was brighter now—full morning. The suite had fully ward up, both from the sunlight and from them.
Everything just felt still. Not in a frozen way. Just settled.
Evelyn eventually tilted her head and looked at him. "Didn’t you get a ssage earlier?"
He blinked once, then rembered. The console chi. The university notification. He hadn’t even read the full thing.
"Right," he said. "The tutor thing."
Everly perked up. "You didn’t check it?"
"I was busy getting attacked over fruit."
"Hey," Everly said, poking him again.
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