The morning air carried the sharp scent of wet earth and pavement. Ethan woke to the soft drumming of rain against the roof, rhythmic and calming. He stayed in bed a moment longer, listening, letting the sound wash over him like a lullaby. Noah was still asleep, sprawled across the small bed, one arm flung over his pillow, mouth slightly open, breathing steady.
Ethan’s chest felt lighter today, though the lingering threads of worry never fully disappeared. He had learned that weight never vanished completely; it simply changed shape, becoming something manageable, something to navigate rather than carry alone.
He got up quietly, careful not to wake Noah, and went to the kitchen. The house smelled faintly of the damp outside, mixed with the lingering aroma of breakfast he had made yesterd
