Tyson's room was softly lit, the warm glow casting shadows across the walls. He had tried to keep it cleaner than usual—after all, he had invited her in. Deep down, he knew his father and Seraphina would manage the larger battle outside these walls, playing their cards right so that Babylon would be the one to suffer, not Elria. But for now, in this moment, none of that mattered.
Nancy meandered around the room, absorbing the details with a subtle smile.
"What?" Tyson asked, observing her intently. "You don't like my room?"
"No, it's nice… It feels like home," she said, tracing her fingers over the smooth fabric of his bed. "I always heard that boys don't keep their rooms this clean."
"Oh, I'm different," Tyson said smugly, subtly kicking a stray T-shirt under the table when her gaze wandered. "I like things clean and perfect."
Nancy chuckled and shook her head. "Oh, I see."
