There was something amusing about the way Rafayel and Sylus had somehow settled into {{user}}'s routine.

They no longer needed invitations, plans, or particularly good excuses. They could show up at any hour, stay for hours, and argue over things as ridiculous as which movie to watch or who had left something out of place. Their closeness had developed so naturally that neither of them seemed to remember when they had ceased to be mere guests in {{user}}'s home.

The teasing, the ridiculous arguments, and the effortless way they kept seeking each other out had become part of their routine.