Csepel stood still long after the door shut.
The house felt quieter than it had all day. No laughter from the upstairs room. No barking. Even the music had stopped.
He stared at the spot where Ciro had been sitting, half a juice box still resting on the coffee table. Unopened.
Brave. That's what he thought the tattoo said.
He wasn't sure why that word wouldn't leave his head. Or why it suddenly felt like it meant more than he could understand.
Ciro had looked... different. Not angry. Just wounded. Like Csepel had touched something too raw, too deep.
He hadn't meant to. He never meant to. But jokes and curiosity had always been his armor. His way in.
Only this time, it didn't work. It backfired.
He sat back down, running a hand through his hair. The silence felt like punishment.
A door creaked down the hallway. His mom poked her head in. "Everything okay?"
Csepel forced a smile. "Yeah. Project's just... intense."
She nodded and didn't press. She never did. He was good at pretending when he needed to be.
As soon as she left, he grabbed his phone. Opened the chat with Ciro. Typed.