After dinner, Karina stretched in her chair like a cat, arms over her head, letting out an exaggerated sigh of contentment.

Winter, standing by the sink, stacked the last of the plates, side-eyeing her with suspicion. The glint in Karina’s eyes was unmistakable—it spelled trouble.

"Alright," Winter said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Time for you to head back to the guest room."

Karina didn’t even blink. "Nope."

Winter froze, turning to face her fully. "What do you mean, ‘nope’?"

"I mean," Karina said, standing and brushing imaginary crumbs from her shirt, "your bed is softer." She started walking toward Winter’s room, as casually as if she owned the place.

Winter gaped, plates clattering slightly in her hands. "You can’t just—"

But Karina was already gone, a whirlwind of audacity leaving Winter standing there, dumbfounded.

When she reached her bedroom, she found Karina sprawled across her bed, cocooned in the blanket as if she’d been living there for years.

"Night!" Karina called out cheerfully, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"Karina," Winter began, her voice low and dangerous. "Out."

Karina didn’t move, only pulled the blanket tighter around herself. "Too tired," she whined. "Plus, who kicks out their personal chef after such a Michelin-star meal? That’s just bad manners."

Winter groaned, breath out in. She reached for the blanket and gave it a firm tug, but Karina clung to it like her life depended on it, giggling uncontrollably.

"Fine!" Winter snapped, throwing up her hands. "Stay on your side. Don’t. Touch. Me."

Karina peeked out from under the blanket, her grin smug. "Deal," she said, though her tone suggested anything but.

Winter rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath, before climbing into bed. She turned her back to Karina, determined to ignore her entirely.

The room fell silent, the only sound the faint hum of the city outside. Just as Winter felt herself slipping into sleep, Karina’s voice broke through the quiet.

"Winter."

Winter’s eyes snapped open, her body tense. "What?" she hissed, turning just enough to glare over her shoulder.

Karina was propped up on one elbow, her face bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. For a moment, she looked serious, her usual teasing smirk nowhere to be found.

"How’s your mom, really?" Karina asked, her voice soft, almost hesitant.

Winter blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. She hesitated, her usual defenses crumbling slightly. "She’s... okay," she admitted. "The doctors adjusted her meds."

"When’s she coming home?" Karina pressed, her gaze steady.

Winter sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Why do you care?"

Karina’s lips curved into a small, playful smile, but her eyes remained sincere. "Because, as your future wife, I need to be on good terms with my mother-in-law. It's basic etiquette, really."

Winter groaned, trying to turn onto her back. "She’s not your anything. Stop saying that," she grumbled, though the faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Karina chuckled, stopping Winter, the sound warm and low, before lying back down, her face now inches from Winter’s. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the air between them shifted, heavy with something unspoken.

"Do you really feel nothing for me?" Karina asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Winter’s heart thudded painfully against her ribs. The question hung in the air, impossible to ignore. She wanted to deny it, to throw up her usual walls, but under Karina’s steady gaze, she found herself unable to say anything at all.

The silence stretched, electric, until Karina finally broke it with a soft chuckle. She tilted her head, her expression somewhere between amused and knowing.

"You’re so lucky," Karina murmured, her tone teasing.

Winter frowned, confused by the sudden shift. "What are you talking about?"

Karina sighed dramatically, staring up at the ceiling. "I mean, come on. Look at me. I’m gorgeous, brilliant, hilarious—a true gift to the world. And yet, here I am, blessing your life with my presence. You should be grateful."

Winter groaned, though this time it was tinged with amusement.

"And yet, you love me for it," Karina quipped, winking.

"Go to sleep," Winter said firmly, turning away again, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her with a smile she couldn’t quite hide.

Karina laughed softly, her arm snaking around Winter’s waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Goodnight, grumpy," she murmured, resting her head against Winter’s shoulder.

Winter sighed, resigned, and closed her eyes. Despite herself, she found the warmth of Karina’s touch oddly comforting. As she drifted off, her last conscious thought was that maybe, just maybe, sharing her bed wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

—

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, its warm glow waking Winter with a start. She groaned softly, shifting in bed, only to realize the space next to her was empty. Panic set in instantly.

Karina.

Winter shot upright, her heart hammering. She scanned the room frantically, half-expecting to see a note saying Karina had finally decided to run. She bolted out of bed, nearly tripping over Banana, who meowed indignantly as she stormed into the hallway.

“Karina!” she called, her voice echoing through the quiet house.

“In here!”

Winter followed the voice to the kitchen, her heart easing slightly at the sound of it. She skidded to a stop in the doorway and blinked in surprise.

There was Karina, standing at the counter in one of Winter’s oversized hoodies, holding a mug of coffee in one hand and petting Banana with the other. Banana, for once, seemed content, purring loudly as Karina scratched behind his ears.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Karina greeted with a dazzling smile. “Coffee?”

Winter exhaled, placing a hand on her chest. “You scared me,” she muttered, her relief evident.

Karina raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What, did you think I ran away? Please. If I were going to escape, I’d have done it on day one.”

Winter rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, thanks for sticking around to terrorize me longer.”

“Anytime,” Karina quipped, handing her a mug.

As the morning passed, they fell into an easy rhythm, exchanging playful jabs as Karina teased Winter about her messy coffee-drinking habits and Winter retaliated with comments about Karina’s absurdly loud slurping.