The casserole was simple and warm, the kind of food that soothed the nerves without demanding anything from the body. Elliot had served Val first, careful not to overload her plate, and now he sat beside her at the table with his own bowl. His posture was tight, as if every movement required quiet concentration, but he ate beside her without drifting away, without withdrawing into himself the way he usually did.
The door opened softly a few minutes later. Noah stepped inside with his hair still damp from a shower and fresh clothes that made him look slightly human again.
"Smells good in here," he said, loosening his shoulders as he kicked off his shoes. "I take it you two started without me."
Elliot stood quickly, almost as though he had done something wrong.
"There is more. You can have some. I made loads."
Noah smiled and touched his arm in a reassuring pat before moving toward the kitchen.
"I'll get it."
When he returned he sat on the other side of Val, and for a while the apartment felt remarkably peaceful. The clink of cutlery. The hum of the fridge. The sense of three people who had been through something heavy and were now trying to breathe again.
Val leaned back against the back of her chair.
"I want to thank you both," she said. "For staying with me at the hospital all night. For helping me get home. I know it wasn't easy."
Noah lifted his fork in a half salute.
"You are stuck with us now. Trauma bonding or something like that."
Elliot's head snapped up. His whole body stiffened.
Noah caught it immediately and softened his tone.
"I am joking, El. Just a figure of speech. No trauma."
Elliot blinked, processing that, easing little by little until his shoulders dropped again. Val watched him with something like tenderness. He had taken the comment literally. Of course he had. He always took things literally.
She nudged him with the side of her bare foot.
"Well. I am glad you two were there. I have never really had… friends like this. Friends who stayed."
A quiet honesty curled itself into the air.
"I can't imagine any of my old friends doing what you did," she added.
Noah smiled at her, bright and certain.
"That's because you have upgraded. No going back now."
Val let her gaze drift to her bowl. "There's nothing to go back to. Those parties, those people, that whole lifestyle. I'm done with all of it." She spoke softly then, almost apologetically.
"And I think I'm done with the dream too."
Elliot's expression tightened with concern. "What dream?"
She exhaled as if the answer weighed more than she expected.
"Being on stage. Being the lead. Being a star."
Her eyes flicked up to meet theirs.
"My dad believed in me, and I kept believing because he did. But I'm twenty five. I've had supporting roles, background roles, the kind of things that are supposed to lead somewhere. They never did."
She drew in a slow breath.
"Maybe it's time to stop fighting for something that doesn't want me. Maybe it's time to find something else."
Noah leaned forward a little as he asked, "Like what?"
She let out a small laugh.
"I have no idea. I never thought about other things, not really. But maybe now that I have time and a bit of… clarity, I can start figuring it out."
They finished eating in a quiet that felt thoughtful rather than heavy. Noah collected their dishes and carried them to the sink, rolling up his sleeves as he turned on the water. He hummed something under his breath as he washed up, taking up space in the comforting way he always did.
Elliot rose and moved to Val's side.
"Do you want to go back to the couch?"
She nodded. Her ribs were aching again.
He offered his arm and she leaned into him, allowing herself to trust his steadiness. When she was settled, he tucked the blanket around her legs with the same gentle care he had shown her at the hospital.
He hovered.
"Would you like to watch something on TV?"
She looked at him mischievously. "Only if you make popcorn."
"We just ate," he said, completely earnest.
She let out a soft laugh and caught his wrist.
"I am kidding."
He froze, then looked embarrassed.
"I never seem to know when someone's kidding."
She tugged him closer until he sank awkwardly beside her. Her fingers curled loosely around his sleeve.
"I know," she said softly.
"And it's okay. I like you just as you are."
Colour rose along his cheekbones. He lowered his gaze, but didn't pull away.
Noah dried his hands and walked back over, stretching his back as he approached.
"What are we watching?"
Val shrugged.
"We haven't decided."
Noah dropped onto the armchair with a dramatic sigh.
"Well, I vote Friends. Since we're all friends now."
Val smiled. Elliot blinked as if still parsing the word, and she gently pulled him a little closer to her side. She kept her hold on his arm, light and warm. He didn't seem to know what to do with his free hand, so she let hers rest against it until he relaxed.
The episode began and the room filled with soft laughter and the familiar rhythm of a show built on companionship. Elliot's breathing eased. His shoulders loosened. Little by little, the tightness inside him unwound.
Val leaned her head against the back of the couch, watching the screen, watching the gentle calm returning to Elliot from the corner of her eye.
Something warm pressed itself into her chest.
She didn't say anything.
She stayed like that, her hand still wrapped around his arm, offering him her steadiness without asking anything in return. She didn't push or question or fill the space with words. She simply let him lean there, quiet and unguarded.
And something in him loosened. Relief settled first, then a tentative sense of strength, and beneath it all the fragile, unfamiliar feeling of being trusted exactly as he was.