Morning light spilled through the curtains, soft and pale. The quiet house felt heavy with the aftermath of the night.
Celine was slumped in the armchair, legs tucked beneath her, hair falling into her face. Julian had flopped onto the floor near the couch, leaning against it with one arm draped lazily over the cushion. August stood by the wall, arms folded, posture relaxed but still watchful, glancing now and then at Liam, who was curled up peacefully on the couch.
The crisis had passed. Liam had sipped the glucose juice, and within minutes the color had returned to his cheeks. He'd even mumbled a sleepy, "Thanks, Dad," before drifting back into a gentle doze.
Celine stirred first, glancing at her phone. "Oh no…" she muttered, sitting up slowly. Her eyes widened. "Shit. I'm going to be late."
Julian chuckled softly from the floor, rubbing his eyes. "Join the club," he said, voice hoarse.
August leaned back against the wall, a small smile tugging at his lips. "He's fine," he said, nodding toward Liam. "You don't need to worry about that anymore."
Celine ran a hand through her hair, exhaling. "I know, but—ugh—I still can't believe I stayed up all night."
Julian stretched, groaning. "Neither could I. I thought I'd be the one to fall asleep on the couch first."
Celine laughed quietly, shaking her head. "Somehow, we all managed."
August's gaze softened as he looked at the two of them. "Well," he said, voice gentle, "he's stable how about we start the day properly?" he asked, voice easy. "Coffee for us, cereal for him?"
Julian chuckled, stretching on the floor. "Perfect. I think I need coffee after last night, anyway."
Celine smiled. "Sounds like the best plan," she said.
Julian pushed himself up from the floor and stretched, glancing toward the kitchen. "Come on, Celine. Let's grab mugs for coffee before Liam wakes up completely."
Celine followed, still quiet in her night gown, as Julian moved toward the cupboard. He pulled out two mugs and then reached for a smaller, colorful cup tucked on the lower shelf. "This one's Liam's," he said, holding it up. "Special cup. Only gets used for breakfast, keeps him happy in the mornings."
Celine smiled, tilting her head as she took one of the mugs. "That's thoughtful," she said. "He seems like a little guy who would notice."
Julian chuckled softly. "Oh, he notices everything. Miss one thing, and you'll hear about it by the end of the day."?
She glanced at him, curiosity soft in her voice.
"So… you watch Liam most of the time for August?" she asked.
Julian shrugged lightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. We've been friends since childhood," he said. "More like brothers, really. Even after what happened with Marissa."
Celine tilted her head, trying to piece it together. "Oh… okay. And… what happened with Marissa?" she asked cautiously, unsure if she should even ask.
Julian froze for a moment, his hand tightening on the mug. He exhaled slowly, careful. "She… she's Liam's mom," he whispered, voice low, as if the name itself was still delicate.
Celine nodded slowly, sensing there was more story there but deciding to respect the silence.
They headed back toward the parlor, mugs in hand. The soft morning light caught Liam sitting on the couch, already awake, a small pout on his face. His little eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at August.
"Good morning, champ," August said, kneeling down beside him and brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead.
"Morning, Dad," Liam muttered, crossing his arms and pouting, still a little sleepy.
He rubbed his eyes and shifted on the couch, looking up at August with a small, guilty frown. "I… I'm sorry," he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.
August crouched down slightly, resting a hand on the back of the couch. "For what, champ?" he asked gently.
Liam fiddled with the blanket around him. "For… for making you all worried," he admitted, voice small. "I… I just blackmailed Uncle Julian into giving me one more scoop of ice cream last night."
August's lips curved into a soft smile. "Hey," he said, voice calm and warm, "it's okay. I forgive you."
Liam's eyes widened, relief washing over his face. "Really?" he asked, hope shining through the guilt.
"Really," August confirmed, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You didn't mean to scare us. Just… try to be a little smarter next time, okay?"
Liam nodded quickly, still a little guilty but clearly relieved. "Okay, Dad," he said softly, a tiny smile breaking through.
From the kitchen doorway, Julian leaned against the frame, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I see how it is," he teased lightly, "blackmailing your uncle for ice cream. Clever… but tricky."
August laughed quietly. "Clever, yes… tricky, also yes. But he's still my little champ."
Celine watched the interaction quietly, sipping from her mug. Even just sitting there, observing, she felt the quiet warmth of family, a bond built in small moments of trust, forgiveness, and care.
After breakfast, Julian disappeared into the hallway and came back a moment later with a folded T-shirt and a pair of soft shorts in his hands. He held them out to Celine with a no-nonsense expression.
"You can't go out in that," he said, nodding toward her nightgown. His tone was calm and firm, like an older brother laying down a rule. "These are August's. They're clean."
Celine blinked, then took the clothes, surprised. "Oh… I—thanks."
Julian gave a small shrug. "Bathroom's down the hall. Take your time."
There was no teasing, no awkwardness, just quiet, practical care. As she walked away, Celine glanced down at the clothes in her hands, feeling oddly steadied by how normal he made it.
In the living room, August was still sitting with Liam, murmuring something soft that made the boy smile. For the first time since the middle of the night, everything felt… settled.
Celine changed quickly in the small bathroom, folding her nightgown neatly before slipping into the borrowed clothes. August's T-shirt was soft and a little too big, the sleeves brushing her elbows. The shorts fit comfortably, simple and clean. She took a breath, smoothed her hair, and stepped back into the living room.
August looked up.
For a moment he forgot what he was about to say. It wasn't that the clothes were special, it was the way she stood there, suddenly part of the quiet morning, looking both out of place and strangely at home.
Celine shifted under his gaze, a faint flush creeping into her cheeks. "It's… a bit big," she murmured, tugging lightly at the hem of the shirt.
August cleared his throat, catching himself. "Yeah. Uh. Sorry. I—Julian keeps my stuff in weird sizes."
Julian, who had been leaning against the kitchen doorway, caught the look on August's face and couldn't help it, a slow, knowing grin spread across his lips.
"Well," he said lightly, "at least someone makes those old shirts look good."
Celine glanced between them, confused for half a second, then realized what Julian was teasing about. She rolled her eyes, but a small smile slipped out anyway.
Liam, watching from the couch, squinted at her. "You look funny in Daddy's shirt."
Celine laughed softly. "I'll take that as a compliment."