Warmth. Affection. Home.

Jason sat on Jessica's lap, completely naked, his thin skin resting on the warmth of Jessica's thighs. Jessica kept her right arm around his slender waist, her fingers gently tracing the skin of his back, like a soft breeze; no rush, no pressure, just a caress. Her left hand was on Jason's chest, her fingertip occasionally resting on his heart, as if she wanted to count its beat.

Every few moments, Jessica would lower her head and kiss Jason's forehead; a soft, warm kiss, like a raindrop on a petal. Then another kiss, this time on his cheek, on his hair, on his temple.

At that moment, Chiara walked out of the kitchen. She dried her hands with a towel, looked at the sofa, at the naked Jason on Jessica's lap, the caresses, the kisses. She showed no reaction. She simply smiled, calm and confident, and sat on the sofa opposite them. She tucked her legs in, picked up the TV remote, and said:

"What movie should we watch?"

Valentina, still on her phone, stood up from the armchair. She put on her black coat, picked up her bag, and as she said, "Yes, I'll see you tomorrow morning..." she walked toward the door. She said a quiet "Goodbye," opened the door, and left. The sound of the door closing was like the end of a chapter.

Now there were only three. Chiara chose the movie; a light comedy, the sound of canned laughter in the background. The TV light fell on Jason's face, on his bare skin, on Jessica's thighs.

Jessica continued her caress. Her fingers now moved from Jason's back to his thigh, gently, like a wave. She occasionally touched his lean bottom, not with intent, but with presence. The kisses continued too; on his neck, on his shoulder, on the back of his ear.

Jason's eyes were closed. He was no longer trembling. He was just being. Just embraced. Just caressed. Just kissed.

Chiara looked over occasionally, smiled, and returned to the movie.

And Jessica, with every caress, with every kiss,

made the world smaller for Jason;

until only one thing remained:

Warmth. Affection. Home.