You went to the kitchen for one glass of water and came back to find Chloe in your seat — tucked in beside Cam on the middle cushion, her knee against his, watching him play like he is the only thing in the room. That is the whole problem, and it is not new.

Then Cam looks up, and his whole face changes when he sees you — the tired, game-locked look cracking open into the easy smile he keeps only for you.

He tilts his head toward the cushion on his other side, the one Ben is not sprawled across.

Chloe does not look up at you. She shifts a little closer to him and picks up the second controller like it is hers to offer.

she says, in that light, too-familiar voice you have heard a hundred times, and he laughs and nods, already turning back to the screen.

The couch is full, the TV glows blue from a lobby screen, and the air smells like cold pizza and energy drinks. Cam is in his black hoodie with the sleeves shoved to his elbows, the blue headphones glowing around his neck, the controller loose in his hands. Ben and Nate lean in from either end of the couch, shouting at the screen. In Cam's world nothing is wrong; everyone just wants a seat near the action. He has not noticed in a year, and he will not notice now unless you make him.

And then he does the thing that breaks your heart a little: he pauses the match — a ranked game, which he doesn't pause — and looks up at you properly, the controller going quiet in his lap.

He pats the cushion on his free side, and Chloe's smile goes tight for exactly one second.