Knock-knock.
Noah had already secured permission from Uncle Smith and Aunt Mei.
The hallway felt gloomier up here, weighted with teenage angst and unspoken problems.
No response.
He knocked once more.
Hearing no denial of entry, Noah opened the door slowly and walked in to find Ethan hunched over his desk, headphones on, playing what looked like a military shooter.
The rapid-fire clicks of the controller filled the space between explosive sound effects that blasted out of his headphones.
'Kid's in his element. I better not interrupt mid-game.'
Noah waited patiently, watching Ethan kill his opponents in the battlefield with surprising skill. The concentration on his cousin's face was absolute—this wasn't just entertainment, it was a way of escaping.
After several minutes, Ethan's character finally died.
He pulled off his headphones with a frustrated sigh.
"Can I play with you?" Noah asked quietly.
Ethan looked at him for a second, surprise flickering across his face.
