Timothy climbed the stairs with slow, steady steps. He moved quietly, but the air around him felt sharp, cold, and heavy. His face looked calm in that way only someone dangerous could manage, but his eyes carried a chill strong enough to freeze a person in place.
He reached Sebastian's door.
He didn't knock.
He pushed it open.
Sebastian stood by the window, arms crossed, staring at the city outside like it offended him simply by existing. He was still wearing the clothes from his trip. No shower. No rest. No sign of exhaustion. Only a deep, silent anger sitting under his skin.
He didn't turn when Timothy entered.
"You came back early," Timothy said.
"Flight was boring," Sebastian answered, voice flat, like he didn't care enough to lie well.
Timothy didn't believe him. The cousins had known each other since they were boys running around the old mansion. Sebastian didn't "come back early" unless was something was about to go wrong.
Sebastian finally turned around.
