It hadn't been Ronan's idea to invite fuckin' Henry Cheng to breakfast, but something about seeing his face in their kitchen hadn't been all that surprising. He'd even managed to grunt an acknowledgment which he thinks clearly shows his ability to grow as a person.

Not that anyone else has noticed.

At the moment, he's busy digging into his second pancake, licking a drop of maple syrup off his thumb when something catches out the corner of his eye. Noah's still by the stove, Blue beside him helping with the batter. Cheng's near the fridge, rested against the counter and Adam's right beside Ronan, shoveling into his own stack of pancakes.

Everyone's here -- everyone plus one.

Anxiety spikes in Ronan's belly as he turns, spike and then freezes as his eye fall wide.

It's like being stuck just after a dream, aware but immobile as the creations of his brain form matter. He can't move.