The door groaned under a second, more assertive knock, slicing through the quiet bubble of the siblings' late-night session. Abhimaan didn’t look up from the small, portable espresso machine he had set up on the vanity, his movements precise and methodical. "Come in," he allowed, his voice steady.

Kritagya pushed the door open, his usual smirk plastered across his face. "Haww, mere bina bitching ho rahi hai?" he teased, stepping into the room and effortlessly sliding into the empty space on the rug beside them.