Selene's POV
It started with hair oil and a gentle tug.
"Your ends are dry," Mira said matter-of-factly, as she settled me down on a floor cushion in her sunlit room. "Sit. You're not leaving here without letting me pamper you."
I blinked. "Oh… okay?"
She was already warming coconut oil between her palms. Amara walked in, arms folded, arching an amused brow. "Already roping her into your spa sessions?"
Mira shrugged with a grin. "I missed having a girl to fuss over."
I didn't say it out loud, but I melted.
In some strange way, it felt… good. To be taken in so effortlessly. So easily loved.
"Does Antonio ever let you touch his hair like this?" Amara asked, flopping onto the bed.
"Only when he's unconscious," Mira quipped.
We all laughed.
It wasn't long before stories spilled out—tales of their childhood, Antonio's ridiculous middle-school haircut phase, how Mira once dyed his hair purple as revenge for him eating her secret stash of brownies. Amara brought up the time they tried sneaking out but Antonio accidentally turned on the burglar alarm.
"Wait, you guys snuck out?" I grinned.
"Shh," Mira hissed dramatically. "That's classified."
By the time the sun dipped low and the room glowed gold, I had a braid down my back, cheeks sore from laughing, and a warmth in my chest I hadn't realized I was missing.
Amara walked over quietly and handed me a bracelet—leather, hand-woven, small charms dangling from it.
"I make these when I'm anxious," she said. "Thought you might like one."
"I love it," I whispered, genuinely touched.
She gave a small shrug, looking away. "You're cool. Different than I expected."
"Better?" I teased.
"Much."
Then Mira leaned over and hugged me from behind. "We always hoped our brother would end up with someone who could handle his chaos and still love his quiet."
I smiled, looking at both of them.
"I didn't think I'd find sisters like this," I said softly.
They didn't say anything—just held me tighter.
And somewhere down the hallway, Antonio peeked in, saw us bundled in pillows and laughter, and quietly backed away with the kind of smile that lingers for days.
Antonio's POV
The dining room was louder than usual—but in the best way.
Mira was teasing Dad about his secret chili recipe (which, honestly, was just store-bought with extra garlic), Amara was dramatically retelling how I once nearly burned the kitchen trying to make pancakes, and Selene—God, Selene—was right in the middle of it all, laughing like she'd been here forever.
She fit.
It was surreal watching her pass my mother the salad bowl like they did this every Sunday, or how she reached across the table to wipe a dab of sauce from my cheek with a grin that made my heart do that stupid flip again.
"Selene," my mom said mid-bite, "can I just say, thank you for bringing calm into this house. Even if temporarily."
"Calm?" Mira scoffed. "She started a hair oil war upstairs."
"Guilty," Selene said, raising her hands.
Everyone laughed.
For a second, I just... watched her. The way her eyes sparkled, how she leaned into the conversation, the way she brushed her hand along my arm when she thought no one was looking.
After dinner, the house mellowed into soft music and warm lighting. Mira and Amara took Mom for a stroll while Dad disappeared into his study. I found Selene alone in the backyard, curled up on the hammock under the fairy lights we never took down.
She smiled as I walked up, scooting over to make space.
"Your family," she whispered, "they're amazing."
"They think the same about you."
We sat in silence for a moment, listening to the quiet rustle of leaves and distant crickets. I reached for her hand, and she laced her fingers through mine like it was instinct.
"I used to think home was a place," I said quietly. "A house, a city… But lately, I think it's just a feeling. A person."
She looked up at me, eyes soft and wondering. "Is that person… me?"
I nodded. "It's always been you."
She leaned in, pressing her forehead gently against mine. "Then let's never lose this."
"We won't."
And in that moment—under a sky of quiet stars, warm from the laughter of family and the steadiness of love—I knew we were building something unshakable.
Together.