CHAPTER 299: A LIFTED DAY

The gentle warmth of Camille’s breath on my chest remained as the knock sounded. It wasn’t overly loud, but it was sufficient to disrupt the silence we had created together.

"Reynard? Camille?" Sienna’s voice was dulled by the door, cheerful yet crucially soothing. "Lunch is ready."

Camille emitted a tired groan, her head moving gently against me. Her hair brushed against my chin, and I remained still, not wanting to move her away just yet.

"Camille," I whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Time to rise."

"Mmm," was all she could say, tightening her eyes more before eventually opening them, pupils adapting to the dim illumination of her studio. She blinked at me, her confusion transforming into a small, drowsy smile.

Then the door opened immediately.

Sienna’s head appeared, her long, auburn, hair hastily gathered in a bun, her eyes widening in surprise when she spotted us still entangled on the velvet couch. Her lips curled into a smile, and before I could object, she took out her phone.

Snap.

"Sienna," Camille croaked, voice hoarse, "delete that."

"Hmm, no," Sienna said, far too cheerful. "Consider this payback for the last fifty times you teased me about sharing Reynard with you. Lunch, you two."

Camille buried her face in my chest, letting out a dramatic groan, while I sighed, gently patting her back in comfort. Sienna only grinned before shutting the door, footsteps light as she retreated.

Camille finally pulled away, hair tousled, cheeks tinted pink. "I’m going to kill her."

"You say that," I said, smirking, "but you’re too tired to get up."

She glared at me, but it lacked any heat. With a final exhale, she rolled off me, standing slowly, stretching her arms above her head. The light caught the faint shimmer of the cleaned mask and coat folded neatly on her work table, and she looked at them with a quiet satisfaction before brushing past me.

"Let’s go before Sienna shares that with Alexis or Evelyn," she muttered.

The hallway outside felt brighter, warmer, filled with the scent of toasted bread, coffee, and something sweet. As we stepped into the kitchen, I stopped short.

The dining table—solid oak, heavy enough that it usually took two people to slide it an inch—wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

Instead, it was floating.

No, not floating. Being held.

Sienna on one side, Evelyn on the other, each with one hand gripping the underside while the other steadied plates and mugs stacked along its surface, balancing them as if they weighed nothing.

Under it was Alexis who was rubbing her hand on the floor in hopes of finding something.

"Careful, careful," Alexis muttered, "I swear, if I lose another contact lens because you can’t keep it steady—"

"It’s steady," Sienna shot back, her tone breezy, belying the veins lightly visible in her forearm as she balanced the table on one hand. "You’re the one struggling to find lenses on the floor."

"Contact lenses are clear, Sienna. Unlike glasses, they don’t just stay on your face, and they’re harder to find when—"

Alexis’s voice cut off as Evelyn yawned loudly while still having one hand on holding up the table.

For a moment, I simply stood there, blinking.

Then it clicked.

They’d both received job titles. The System enhanced them, physically, not just mentally. Sienna had always been strong, but her job as an A-Rank construction worker meant her strength now was on another level. And Evelyn, despite her narrow frame, had my portfolio. Her strength only added to her inhuman confidence and steadiness.

I crossed my arms, watching them with a faint smile.

"Need a hand?" I asked.

"Shh," Alexis hissed, still searching the floor. "I almost have it."

Sienna looked at me, a bead of sweat trailing down her temple, though she was still smiling. "Morning, Rey."

"Morning." I tilted my head, observing the scene. "Impressive."

Sienna’s grin widened, a hint of pride flashing across her face. Alexis finally let out a small aha! as she pinched the tiny clear lens off the floor, holding it aloft in triumph before slipping it onto her finger.

"I still hate these things," she muttered, carefully placing it back in her eye before blinking rapidly. "Glasses are easier to find when you drop them."

"You dropped your glasses three times last week," Sienna reminded her.

"That’s different," Alexis shot back, helping Evelyn adjust the table’s angle before they set it down gently, dishes rattling but not spilling. "Glasses make noise when they fall."

Sienna only chuckled, ruffling Alexis’s hair as she moved to the kitchen to wash her hands.

Lunch was simple but comforting. Freshly made spaghetti, meatloaf, ranch salad, and coffee made for Camille in which she immediately latched onto the moment she arrived fifteen minutes later, clothes swapped for a loose blouse and shorts.

She plopped into her chair, cup in hand, taking a long sip before letting out a satisfied sigh.

"I finished cleaning the coat," she announced, pushing her hair back from her face. "And the mask. Don’t ruin it again, Rey."

"I’ll try not to," I said, trying not to grin.

She eyed me, narrowing her gaze, but the corner of her lips twitched upward before she dug into the fruit bowl.

The kitchen buzzed with soft dialogue, the sporadic clatter of forks and mugs anchoring the day. Alexis listed the supplies she required for her lab, Sienna responded with a reminder to assess the balcony’s structural integrity, while Camille leisurely drank her coffee, her eyelids fluttering with each sip, and Evelyn remained silent, though Psychological Insight indicated she was simply feeling weary these days.

It felt normal, for a moment. Soft, warm, the world outside quiet, like everything was holding its breath to let us have this hour.

After we finished, I stood, brushing off crumbs from my pants. One by one, I moved to each of them.

First Alexis, who was organizing her notes by the counter. I leaned in, pressing a light kiss against her cheek. She froze for a fraction of a second, then adjusted her glasses, clearing her throat.

"Don’t think this will get you out of helping me with the lab inventory," she muttered, though her ears were pink.

Then Sienna, who was wiping down the table with a cloth. She blinked as I kissed her cheek, a smile spreading so bright it almost knocked the breath out of me.

"Took you long enough," she said softly, bumping her shoulder against mine.

She was slowly becoming more and more confident in this relationship.

Evelyn who was heading back to her room to likely read a book or a government document. Despite her quiet demeanor, she blushed for a moment as I gave her cheek a peck.

Finally, Camille, who was lounging back in her chair, coffee cup cradled against her chest, eyes half-closed. I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her eyes opened, slow, amused, and she tilted her head just enough to brush her nose against mine before settling back with a smug smile.

"You’re forgiven for the paint," she murmured.

I chuckled, stepping back to the coat rack. The freshly cleaned coat was there, its design catching the light, the mask resting atop it like a silent guardian.

I slipped the coat on, the fabric hugging my shoulders perfectly, Camille’s craftsmanship wrapping around me like a promise. The mask, when I placed it against my face, settled comfortably. I felt my demeanor was shifting as her skills took effect.

I glanced back once, seeing them all there—Alexis scribbling, Sienna humming while she cleaned, Camille sipping the last of her coffee and Evelyn entering her room.

The outside air was crisp as I stepped into the hallway, the door shutting quietly behind me. The city beyond was awake, cars moving, people talking, the noise a soft hum beneath the concrete and steel.

Each step felt grounded, deliberate, the coat’s weight reassuring against my shoulders.

By the time I arrived at the precinct, it was around 4pm, The sun painting sharp shadows on the cracked pavement.

I pushed open the precinct door, the familiar scent of stale coffee and old paper washing over me. Officers moved about, conversations a quiet murmur, the hum of the building a constant backdrop.

At the front desk, Grant looked up, eyes widening for a moment as he took in the sight of me in the cleaned coat and mask.

"You’re back," he said, relief in his voice that he tried to hide behind a half-smirk.

"Yeah," I said, adjusting the collar of the coat. "I’m back."