#grigemtho

gem immediately calling grian out, ethos bewildered “what??” and grians pouting tone this clip is just perfect to me

transcript:

Grian: I-I've killed… I've killed so many trident guys and not got a trident this season.

Gem: I got a trident and then Grian told me that tridents were not very impressive when I was excited.

Etho: What??

Grian: I was just trying to make myself feel better.

[Gem laughs]

Grian/GeminiTay/EthosLab, NC-17, ~7k

If you want a chance with her, all you have to do is show up.

---

“You have to promise not to be mad,” Grian murmurs from between Gem’s legs, and she knows it’s premeditated, timed just so, because she’s still breathing hard, coming down from the high of back-to-back orgasms.

Grian presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh and for a split second, she wonders if he’s going to try to get his mouth back on her to push for orgasm number three, to distract from whatever it is he wants to admit.

She’s not sure she’d survive.

She presses a palm to his forehead, holding him back just in case he gets any ideas.

“What would I be mad about?” she asks, and he holds her gaze, clearly warring with himself.

Finally, he sits back on his heels, wiping at his face with both hands.

She lets her hand drop to her hip, fingers idly pressing at the mouth-shaped bruise already there.

“I can’t say until you promise.”

She thins her lips, staring at him and watching the way he fidgets, but for once she can’t read his expression.

“How serious is this conversation?” she grunts, leaning up on one elbow. “Do I need to put on underwear?”

His gaze drops between her legs. “I didn’t say that.”

She brings one leg up, nudging at him with her heel, and he finally looks at her again.

“What’s this about?” she asks and he grabs her foot, tucking it back down against the bed.

“I should probably just — ” He moves, fast enough to startle her, shifting to the edge of the bed and reaching for the nightstand where his phone is. “I should show you.”

“I can't do everything for you!” They all stare at her, focused. Grian scoffs, unamused, “Looks like our Gem isn't all that great.” Pearl sighs, “I should've known you were useless.” Etho shoots an uninterested look. He doesn't even need to say anything and it gets her heart racing.

Gem wakes up, heart beating faster than it should. She rubs her eyes, vision blurring. Her breath comes too fast, chest tight like something’s pressing down on it. The room is quiet and for a second she doesn’t know where she is. The words still echo, bouncing around her skull as if they were real. Gem presses her palm against her sternum, counting her heartbeats — trying to slow it down, trying to remind herself she’s not there, she’s not with them, they didn’t mean it like that, they wouldn’t— A soft clatter from outside her room makes her flinch.

Reality seeps back in through the cracks. The faint smell of something cooking. The low murmur of voices. She swallows hard, dragging in a shaky breath. “It was just a dream,” she whispers to herself, but her voice doesn’t sound convinced.

Her legs feel heavy as she swings them over the side of the bed. The floor is cool under her feet — grounding. Out there, the world continues spinning, like nothing happened. As if she didn’t just have the worst nightmare in her sleep. Gem wipes at her eyes, steadying herself before she stands. “I'm okay.” She keeps repeating those words until she reaches the bathroom. She stares into the mirror — messy hair, pale, and sunken eyes. She looks like shit and she hates it. She needs to look okay — she doesn't need any help.

Gem grips the edge of the sink until her knuckles go pale. For a second, she considers splashing water on her face — something cold, something that would be enough to snap her fully awake — but she doesn’t move. She just watches herself breathe in the mirror.

“Pull it together,” she mutters under her breath. She runs the tap anyway, letting the water rush loud enough to drown out the echo of those voices still stuck in her head. The sound fills the small bathroom, steady and constant. Gem cups her hands, brings the water to her face, lets it drip down her cheeks and neck. It’s cold, but it helps — even if it's a little bit.

She pats her face dry, pushes her hair back with damp hands, and practices something that almost looks like a normal expression.

Gem opens the door. The smell of breakfast hits her. Safe — in the way that makes something in her chest ache. Gem steps into the hallway slowly, shoulders tight. The low murmur of voices grows clearer, warm and ordinary, threading through the smell of breakfast. It’s so normal — it almost feels unreal after the noise in her head. In the living room, Grian is slumped on the couch, half-awake, a blanket tangled around his legs. Etho sits nearby with a book in his hands, posture loose. Pearl moves around the kitchen, humming under her breath as she flips something in a pan.

Pearl glances up first when Gem goes out. Her face softens. “Morning,” she says, gently. “You want breakfast?”

Gem hesitates in the doorway, fingers curling slightly at her sides. The echo of the dream tries to claw its way back up — “useless” — but Pearl’s voice doesn’t match it. “…Yeah,” Gem manages, voice a little rough. “Yeah, thank you.”

Pearl smiles, small but warm, and turns back to the stove. “You’re just in time.” On the couch, Grian cracks one eye open, squinting at her. “You look like you fought yourself and lost,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep. Etho glances up from his book, eyes flicking over her. He gives a small nod, a quiet “hey,” before returning to his page. Gem huffs a quiet, tired breath at Grian’s comment. “Feels like it,” she admits, voice soft. Her shoulders loosen, tension easing out in slow, careful increments as she steps further into the room.

Pearl slides a plate onto the counter and nudges it toward her. “Sit,” she says, easy and warm; and Gem sits. The chair scrapes softly against the floor. She wraps her hands around the edge of the counter, feeling the smooth surface under her fingers, the faint warmth from the stove nearby. The smell of food settles around her — buttery, something toasty, something sweet — and it fills up the hollow space the nightmare left behind.

Pearl sets a fork beside the plate and nudges a glass of water toward her without making a big deal of it. “Eat before Grian steals it,” she says lightly. “I would never,” Grian mutters, already halfway to sitting up. “You absolutely would,” Pearl shoots back, but there’s a smile in it. Gem almost smiles too — almost. She picks up the fork — her hands are steadier now, though not by much. The first bite feels strange — she has to remind herself how to chew, how to swallow. The normalcy of it is overwhelming in a different way than the nightmare had been. Warm food, soft voices, Etho turning a page. Nobody is looking at her as if she did something wrong and that worries her. She glances towards them and all she sees are the faces who truly care for her. Pearl’s humming, quieter than before. Grian is squinting at nothing in particular, hair sticking up in different directions. Etho shifts slightly in his seat, crossing one ankle over his knee, entirely at ease. She feels stupid now. Why did she ever doubt them? I don’t think even she knew the answer. “You’re quiet,” Etho says suddenly, not looking up from his book. Gem pauses for half a second — clearly caught off-guard, “Oh, I’m just tired,” she replies trying not to make it a big deal. Etho hums quietly, like he hears more than she’s saying but won’t press. The page turns. “Mm. You should rest after you eat then.”

Grian squints at her from the couch, rubbing one eye. “Or,” he says, voice still rough with tire, “you could sit there and let me tell you about the dream I had where Pearl burned toast and we all died.” “I did not—” Pearl starts. “You did. It was tragic.” He snorts. Gem lets out a small breath through her nose—almost a laugh. It’s shaky, but it’s there. The tightness in her chest loosens another fraction. Pearl sets another pan down a little more firmly. “Eat your breakfast before I actually burn something out of spite.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Grian says, noticeably quieter.

Silence settles again after that, but it’s not heavy. Gem takes another bite — it melts in her mouth and she thinks this is the warmest she’s ever felt. The echo from the dream is still there, faint and ugly at the edges of her thoughts — useless, not good enough, can’t do everything— but it doesn’t fit here. It doesn’t match the way Pearl keeps glancing over just to make sure her plate isn’t empty. It doesn’t match the way Grian shifts just a bit so there’s enough space on the couch if she wanted to. It doesn’t match the way Etho’s voice softened when he spoke to her. Her fingers curl a little tighter around the fork.

“Hey,” Pearl says gently after a minute, not looking at her directly this time, giving her an out. “You’ve got that meeting later, right? You want me to walk with you?”

Gem blinks, pulled back. “Oh. Uh—” she swallows. The instinct to say I’m fine, I don’t need help wallows around in her throat. “…Yeah,” Gem says instead, quieter than she intended. “I’d like that.”

Pearl hums softly, “Alrighty then.” Something in Gem’s stomach swirls — in a good way. The type of good when your stomach swirls while you're on a roller coaster. She isn't used to this feeling but it isn't necessarily a bad thing — so, she'll appreciate it while she can. Grian shifts on the couch, blanket bunching as he props himself up on one elbow. “Aw, look at you two being all lovey-dovey,” he blinks in a teasing manner. “Gross.”

“Jealous much?” Pearl shoots back immediately. “Wha— What would I be jealous of?” He says it in a tone that's half-serious and half-joking, as if he actually was jealous. Etho turns another page. “You do sound jealous,” he says mildly. “Rude.”

Gem huffs out another quiet almost-laugh, and this one comes a little easier. The knot in her stomach unwinds by another thread. She finishes a few more bites, actually tasting it this time. The food is good — warm and soft, it helps anchor her. Where nobody is calling her useless. Her shoulders drop, just a little.

“…Hey,” Gem says after a moment, voice softer, more tentative. “Thanks. For—” She gestures vaguely with her fork, at the food, the room, and them. “This.”

Pearl glances over her shoulder and smiles. “Anytime, Gemmy.” Grian gives her a lazy salute from the couch. “We aim to please.” Etho doesn’t look up this time, but his voice is quiet when he says, “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know.” She freezes, unsure of what to answer.

Her grip on the fork tightens, then loosens again. “…I know,” she says, even if it comes out a little unsteady.

They all finish eating up and start preparing for the day. Pearl double-checking the stove is off, Grian trying to convince Etho he absolutely does not need all his books today, and Etho ultimately ignoring him. The morning air is cool when they step outside, the kind that wakes you up whether you want it to or not. Campus is already alive — voices, footsteps, laughter, the distant thud of a ball somewhere, doors opening and closing. Gem walks beside Pearl at first, their shoulders brushing every now and then — Pearl not moving away. Grian stretches his arms over his head as they walk, nearly smacking Etho with his elbow. “If I fail today, it’s on you,” he tells Etho.

“You were going to fail anyway,” Etho replies, not even glancing towards him. “Wow. Thanks for being so supportive, Etho.”

They hit the main path, and as always, people start glancing towards them. A few students whisper behind their hands. Grian notices first. He straightens just a little, grin slipping into place. “Ah, yes,” he murmurs. “Our adoring fans.” “You are actually delusional,” Etho replies calmly, turning a page. Pearl doesn’t necessarily care about that part. But she does care with the way some of those looks slide past the group and settle on Gem.

A glance that lingers too long. A whisper paired with a quick look-over. Someone nudging their friend and tilting their chin in Gem’s direction. Pearl’s expression doesn’t change much — not enough for someone like Gem, who’s busy staring at the pavement and counting her steps. But Grian sees the way Pearl’s eyes narrow just a fraction. Etho notices the subtle shift in her posture — the way her shoulders square, the way she adjusts her path half a step closer to Gem without making it obvious.

Another pair of students passes by. One of them looks at Gem, then leans over to murmur something.

Pearl stares towards them. They immediately look away. Gem doesn’t see it. She’s too focused on keeping her breathing even, on not letting the leftover ache from the nightmare crawl back up her spine. A group by the benches goes quiet as they walk past. One of them starts to say something, then catches Pearl’s eye mid-sentence and abruptly decides they have something very interesting to look at on their phone instead.

Grian snorts under his breath, low enough that only Etho hears. “You’re going to kill someone with that look.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Immediately putting up her innocent act. Etho hums softly, clearly unconvinced, but he doesn’t call her out. Gem glances sideways at them, catching only the tail end of the exchange. “…What?”

“Nothing,” Grian says immediately, waving a hand. “Pearl’s just being terrifying as usual.” “I am not.”

Another set of students approaches from the opposite direction. One of them looks Gem up and down, slow. Pearl notices it. Her gaze snaps over. The student falters, looks away, and keeps walking. Grian watches the whole thing out of the corner of his eye, eyebrows lifting. “…Wow,” he mutters. Etho turns a page. “Mm.”

Gem keeps walking, unaware, focusing instead on the feel of her shoes against the pavement and the warmth of the sun on her shoulders. They reach the fork in the path where their classes split. Grian points one way. “That’s me. If I don’t show up tomorrow, assume I’ve perished.”

“You won’t,” Etho says. “You’ll oversleep.”

“Rude.”

Etho nods toward another building. “I’m this way.”

Pearl turns to Gem. “We’ve still got a bit,” she says easily. “I’ll walk you to your room.” Gem nods, adjusting her bag. “…Okay.” Grian starts to head off, then pauses, glancing back at Pearl with a grin that’s a little too knowing. “Try not to threaten anyone on the way, yeah?” “I don’t threaten people.” “You absolutely do.” Gem looks between them, confused again. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Pearl says at the same time Grian says, “Everything.” Etho just hums, already walking away. Gem shakes her head, a little amused despite herself, and turns back toward her building with Pearl beside her. The crowd thins a little on this path, but the looks don’t stop entirely. They reach the entrance.

“Text me when you’re done,” Pearl says, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “We’ll meet up after.” Gem nods. “…Yeah. I will.”

There’s a small pause. “…Thanks,” Gem adds, softer. “For walking with me.”

“Anytime,” Pearl replies. Gem gives her a small smile — real, this time — then turns and heads inside.

Pearl stays where she is for a second, watching until the doors close behind her.

Only then does she turn away.

As she heads back across campus, more people look at her — the usual whispers, the usual attention.

Pearl doesn’t notice a single one of them.

Grian, from halfway down the path, watches her go and snorts to himself. Etho, beside him, doesn’t look up from his book when he says quietly, “You’re smiling.” “I am not.” “Mm.”

By the time their last classes let out, the day has softened.

The late afternoon light spills gold over the walkways, long shadows stretching across the campus paths. The air’s warmer now, the earlier bite gone. Students drift out in clusters, voices louder, lighter — the end-of-day relief settling in. Gem steps out of her building and spots them almost immediately. Grian’s sprawled on a low concrete wall, one foot propped up, animatedly telling a story with his hands. Etho stands beside him, half-listening, half-reading, posture as relaxed as ever. Pearl is leaning against the wall too, arms folded loosely, eyes scanning the path — and the second she spots Gem, her whole expression softens. She pushes off the wall. “Hey.” Gem walks over, something in her chest loosening at the sight of them all together, waiting.

“Hey,” she echoes, a little quieter. “How was your meeting?” Pearl asks, falling into step beside her like it’s second nature. “Uh… okay,” Gem says. “I think. I didn’t mess anything up, so that’s a win.”

“That’s a low bar,” Grian says, hopping down from the wall. “We should raise your standards.” Pearl elbows him lightly. “Ignore him.”

“I’m deeply offended.”

Etho closes his book with a soft thump. “You’ll live.”

Gem huffs out a small laugh, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. The tension she’d carried through the morning is thinner now, stretched out by hours of normalcy and the steady presence of them.

“Food?” Grian asks, already starting to walk backward down the path. “I’m starving. If I don’t eat soon I might actually die this time.”

“You said that this morning,” Etho points out.

“And yet here I am, still alive and still hungry.”

Pearl glances at Gem. “You wanna go?”

Gem hesitates for only half a second.

“…Yeah. That sounds good.”

“Great,” Grian says immediately, turning and leading the way. “I’m thinking the place just off campus — the one with the good fries.” “The one that’s always full?” Gem asks. “That’s the one,” he says cheerfully. Etho hums. “We’ll manage.”

The restaurant is only a short walk away — a small, cozy place tucked along the street just outside campus, warm light spilling out of its windows, the smell of fried food and something sweet drifting into the air. Inside, it’s busy but not packed. A few tables are open. They claim one in the corner. Gem slides into the booth first, Pearl beside her. Grian drops into the seat across from them with a satisfied sigh, Etho settling in next to him, already setting his book down at the edge of the table.

A server comes by with menus. Grian doesn’t even open his. “I already know what I want.” “Of course you do,” Pearl says, flipping hers open anyway and sliding one toward Gem. “Take your time.” Gem nods, scanning the options. “What’re you getting?” Grian asks, leaning his chin on his hand and looking at her. “Uh…” Gem glances between a couple of items. “Probably just something small.”

“Get something you actually want,” Pearl says gently. “You’ve barely eaten today.” Gem opens her mouth to say she’s fine, stops, and closes her mouth. “…Okay,” she says instead, softer. “I will.”

They place their orders — Grian ordering enough for what feels like three people, Etho something simple, Pearl and Gem somewhere in between. When the server walks away, Gem reaches automatically for her bag.

“I’ve got it,” she says quickly.

Grian and Pearl both say, at the exact same time, “No you don’t.”

Gem blinks. “…What?” “We’ve got it,” Pearl corrects gently. “You don’t have to—” Gem starts. “We know,” Grian cuts in, waving a hand like it’s no big deal. “We want to.”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s literally fine,” he insists. “If it makes you feel better, consider it… an investment in keeping me from passing out on the floor.” Pearl rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. It’s just dinner.”

Gem hesitates, fingers still curled around the strap of her bag. “I can pay for myself, though.”

Etho speaks up this time, quiet. “We know you can.” Gem looks at him.

He meets her gaze for a second, then shrugs slightly. “Let them do something nice.”

Grian nods, leaning back in his seat. “Also, for the record, if we don’t spend the money our families throw at us, they’ll just find something worse to do with it. This is the better option.” Pearl snorts. “He’s not wrong.”

Slowly, she lets go of her bag. “…Okay,” she says, a little hesitant, but real. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Pearl says again, soft.

“See?” Grian says, pointing at her. “We’re great. Very generous. Extremely kind. You should be grateful.”

“I am grateful,” Gem says, deadpan.

“Good.” Their food arrives not long after — plates set down, the smell warm and rich and comforting. Grian immediately steals a fry off Pearl’s plate.

“Hey—”

“You weren’t eating it.”

“I was about to!”

“Too slow.”

Etho reaches over and takes one off Grian’s plate in retaliation without looking up.

Grian gasps. “Betrayal.” Gem laughs — real this time — and something in her chest settles into place. Grian tells a ridiculous story about something that happened in class, Pearl argues with him about the details, Etho corrects both of them at random times without even looking up from his food.

Gem listens, adds in a comment here and there, lets herself be pulled into the rhythm of it. By the time the plates are empty and Grian is dramatically complaining about being “too full to move,” the last remnants of the morning’s nightmare feel distant. Pearl slides out of the booth first, grabbing the check when it comes before Gem can even think about reaching for it. Grian tosses in his share without looking.

Outside, the sky has shifted into that soft in-between — not quite evening, not quite day. The streetlights flicker on one by one, warm halos blooming against the dimming blue. Grian stretches the second they step out of the restaurant, groaning. “I regret everything.”

“You say that every time you eat,” Pearl says, nudging the door closed behind her.

“And yet I never learn.”

Etho pushes the door open for a couple of students walking in behind them, then falls into step with the group. “You’ll survive.”

“I don’t want to survive, Etho. I want to thrive.”

“You ate half my fries,” Pearl adds.

“That was necessary for my growth.”

Gem huffs out a small laugh, the sound easier now, less tight around the edges. The night air is cooler than before, brushing against her skin. They start back toward campus at an easy pace, not really in a hurry to get anywhere.

For a while, it’s just quiet conversation — Grian complaining about an assignment, Pearl teasing him for procrastinating, Etho offering a solution that Grian immediately refuses on principle. Gem listens, adds a comment here and there.

At some point, Grian drifts a few steps ahead, walking backwards so he can keep talking. Etho falls slightly behind, attention split between the path and the book he’s somehow picked back up.

That leaves Gem and Pearl side by side again. Their shoulders brush. “…Thanks,” she says after a minute, voice softer than the night around them. Pearl glances over. “For what?”

“Earlier,” Gem says, then hesitates, searching for the right words. “And… dinner. And just—” She gestures vaguely, a small motion with her hand. “Being there.” Pearl’s expression softens in that quiet, steady way of hers. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I know,” Gem says. “I just… want to.” Pearl nods once, accepting it without making it bigger than it is. “Okay.” They walk a few more steps in comfortable silence. Then Pearl adds, a little more quietly, “You did good today, you know.”

Gem blinks. “What?”

“Your meeting,” Pearl clarifies. “And… everything else.”

Gem’s instinct is immediate — to brush it off, to say it wasn’t a big deal, that she could’ve done better, that she—

She stops herself. “…Thanks,” she says instead, the word small but sincere. Ahead of them, Grian spins around mid-step and nearly trips over his own feet. “If I fall, I expect one of you to catch me,” he announces.

“No,” Etho says from behind him.

“Wow. Cruel.”

Pearl rolls her eyes. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Never—”

His heel catches on the uneven edge of the pavement.

It’s quick — a half-step miscalculation, a shift of weight — but enough that Grian lurches backward with a startled “—oh!” Etho’s hand shoots out on instinct, catching the back of Grian’s jacket before he can tip any further.

For a second, they both freeze like that — Grian half-leaning back into him, Etho steadying him with a firm grip.

“…You good?” Etho asks, voice low and close.

Grian blinks, a little startled, then snorts a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Etho doesn’t let go immediately. His hand stays there for just a beat longer than strictly necessary, making sure Grian’s balanced again before he releases the fabric and gives his shoulder a small, almost absent-minded pat.

“Try facing forward when you walk,” Etho says mildly.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Grian shoots back, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his expression when he glances over at him. “Thanks.”

Etho just hums, already looking back down at his book like nothing happened. Gem notices the exchange from a few steps back, a small smile tugging at her mouth. It's cute — the kind of cute that only happens when people are used to taking care of each other.

They fall back into step together. Grian slows so they’re all walking in one loose line again, shoulders occasionally bumping, steps falling into an unspoken rhythm.

The campus lights glow brighter now, the last of the daylight slipping away. Students pass by in small groups, laughter echoing across the open space.

By the time they reach their building, the day has settled fully into night, the earlier noise of the nightmare a distant echo that doesn’t quite reach her anymore. Pearl pauses at the door, holding it open. “After you.” Gem steps inside, warmth meeting her again, familiar and safe.

Behind her, the others follow — Grian still talking, Etho humming under his breath, Pearl bringing up the rear. The door clicks shut. And the world outside fades away, leaving just the quiet comfort of this place.

Grian drops his bag first, right by the door. “If I move any further, I might actually collapse.”

“You say that,” Pearl says, toeing off her shoes, “and then you’re the one who stays up the latest.”

“Because I suffer for my art.”

“You’re an architecture student.”

“Exactly.”

Etho, from the kitchen, adds without looking up, “Your ‘art’ is structural load calculations.”

Grian gasps, offended. “You wound me. There is beauty in structural integrity.”

“There is math,” Etho corrects.

“It can be both,” Pearl says, amused.

Grian points at her. “Thank you. Finally, someone appreciates my genius.”

Gem huffs a quiet laugh from where she’s standing. Pearl glances back at her, just briefly, like she’s checking in without making it obvious. “You good?”

Gem nods, a small, real smile tugging at her mouth. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good,” Pearl says softly.

They scatter a little after that — Grian drifting toward the couch with a dramatic groan, Etho heading for the kitchen to grab a glass of water, Pearl pausing by the counter to rinse her hands. Gem moves slower, taking her time hanging up her bag, toeing off her shoes, letting the quiet settle around her. The echo of the morning feels far away now.

From the living room, Grian’s voice floats over. “Etho, if I die on this couch, you’re legally required to tell a dramatic story about me.”

“You’re not dying,” Etho says, the faint clink of a glass against the counter following his words.

“You don’t know that.”

There’s a pause. Then the soft sound of footsteps. When Gem glances over, she catches it out of the corner of her eye — Grian half-slumped on the couch, one arm thrown over his face in exaggerated exhaustion, and Etho standing over him, unimpressed.

“…Move your feet,” Etho says.

“No.” Etho nudges Grian’s leg with his foot.Grian nudges back, barely opening one eye.

“Move.”

“Make me.”

There’s a long silence.

Then Etho reaches down, grabs Grian lightly by the ankle, and shifts his legs just enough so he can sit at the end of the couch.

Grian lets out a very put-upon noise, but he doesn’t actually resist — just lets his legs settle across Etho’s lap like it was his plan all along.

“…Wow,” Grian says after a second, peeking at him. “So you do care.”

Etho leans back, adjusting slightly so Grian’s legs don’t fall off. “Don’t make it weird.”

“Too late.”

Gem watches them for half a second longer, the quiet, easy way they settle into each other’s space, and something warm blooms in her chest.

Pearl notices too — her gaze flicking from the kitchen, a small, knowing smile tugging at her mouth before she looks away and busies herself with drying her hands.

The apartment falls into that comfortable end-of-day lull after a while.

Eventually, they start peeling off toward their rooms.

Etho nudges Grian’s legs. “Get up. Go to bed.”

“I live here now.”

“You have a bed.”

“This is my bed.”

Pearl passes by, flicking off one of the lights. “Go. To. Sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Grian mutters, finally dragging himself up, grabbing his bag as he shuffles toward the hallway.

Etho follows a second later, slower, pausing just long enough to grab his book from the coffee table.

Gem lingers in the living room a moment longer, the quiet settling in around her, the last of the day unwinding from her shoulders. Pearl comes up beside her, leaning lightly against the wall.

“…Hey,” Pearl says, voice soft in the dim light. Gem looks over.

“You did good today,” Pearl repeats gently. “I mean it.” Gem’s throat tightens, but she nods. “…Thank you.”

There’s a small pause.

Then Pearl smiles, softer than before. “Get some rest, okay? You’ve got another long day tomorrow.”

Gem lets out a quiet breath. “…Yeah. I will.”

Pearl gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze — brief, grounding.

“Goodnight, Gemmy.”

“Goodnight, Pearlie.”

Pearl heads down the hall after the others, leaving the living room quiet and still.

Gem stands there for a second longer, listening to the soft sounds of doors opening and closing, Grian’s muffled complaining, Etho’s low reply, Pearl’s quiet laugh threading through it all. She exhales, slow and steady, then turns off the last light and heads to her room.

And when she finally lies down, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders, the silence doesn’t feel heavy anymore — It feels calm. And she thinks she wouldn't trade it for anything else.