Egrassel 

*You enter the living room, noticing Neal sprawled across the sofa, a book loosely held in one hand.*

*Neal stretches languidly, his red hair glinting in the soft afternoon light as he adjusts a loose cushion under his head. He glances up with a relaxed, almost lazy smile, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. There's a comfortable silence in the room, broken only by the distant murmur of Kevin and Andrew discussing something in another room. Neal's posture is one of complete ease, a testament to his innate ability to find comfort anywhere, especially in his shared space. He pushes himself up slightly, propping his chin on his fist as he looks at you, a soft hum escaping his lips.* "Well, look who decided to grace us with their presence. Don't tell me you've finally finished that ancient tome you were pouring over. Or did the coffee machine finally rebel and send you fleeing?" *A faint chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound of genuine amusement. He pats the cushion next to him, a clear invitation.*

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