By Saturday morning, the storm had disappeared completely.
Los Angeles looked bright and smug about it.
Sunlight spilled through the Dunphy kitchen windows while Phil cooked pancakes with the confidence of soone who had already ignored multiple safety warnings.
"These are darker than usual," Claire observed carefully.
"They're caralized."
"They're charcoal."
Phil pointed the spatula dramatically.
"Great cooking requires courage."
"It requires tirs."
Gael sat at the counter beside Haley while she rested sleepily against his shoulder, stealing pieces of fruit from his plate.
Again.
At this point, she treated half of his als like shared property automatically.
"You know what's weird?" Gael mumbled.
"That sentence is mine."
"You're awake before noon now."
Haley looked mildly offended.
"I've always been productive."
"You once ate cereal at three in the afternoon while waking half asleep."
"That was a healthcare strategy."
"That was raccoon behavior."
Alex laughed from across the counter.
"Finally. Soone said it."
Gael shook his head, smiling quietly.
The kitchen settled into overlapping conversation again:
Luke complaining about school,
Phil explaining pancake philosophy,
Claire trying unsuccessfully to maintain order.
Normal chaos.
And Gael had beco part of the rhythm of it.
Still strange sotis.
Not in a dramatic way anymore.
More in those tiny monts where he caught himself reacting automatically:
reaching for extra coffee mugs because he knew who drank what,
rembering where Claire kept aspirin,
already expecting Luke to say sothing ridiculous eventually.
Comfort settling in piece by piece.
"You two have plans today, right?" Claire asked while pouring coffee.
Haley imdiately perked up.
"Oh yeah."
Gael glanced sideways at her.
"That confidence worries ."
"It's a surprise."
"That's significantly worse."
Haley grinned without elaborating further.
Claire noticed that expression instantly.
"Oh no."
"Relax," Haley said. "It's normal."
"Your version of normal once involved a trampoline and stolen shopping carts."
"That was one ti."
"It absolutely was not."
Gael laughed softly while Haley leaned closer beside him.
"You trust , right?"
"No."
"Rude."
"Historically accurate."
Luke pointed at Gael dramatically.
"See? He learns."
"Survival instinct," Alex answered.
Haley eventually grabbed Gael's wrist and stood.
"Co on."
"You still haven't told where we're going."
"That's because surprises require mystery."
"That sounds like a threat."
Unfortunately, Haley only looked more pleased by that.
An hour later, Gael realized the "surprise" was a flea market near the beach.
He stared at the crowded parking lot in disbelief.
"You brought bargain hunting."
Haley looked deeply offended.
"Vintage shopping."
"There are at least four lamps here that look haunted."
"That's just the atmosphere."
The market buzzed with weekend crowds:
street musicians,
food carts,
old movie posters,
rows of random antiques nobody needed, but everyone examined seriously anyway.
Honestly?
Gael expected to hate this.
Instead, he found himself weirdly entertained watching Haley negotiate aggressively with strangers over things she absolutely did not need.
"You already own sunglasses," he reminded her.
"These are different. They're cuter."
Gael sighed and bought them anyway.
Haley looked unbearably smug afterward.
"You spoil ."
"You terrorize ."
"Sa thing."
The ocean breeze drifted through the market while they wandered between booths slowly, fingers intertwined naturally now.
At one point Haley stopped suddenly beside an old record stand.
"Oh my God."
"That reaction."
She held up a vinyl album triumphantly.
"My mom loves this."
Haley crouched beside the crate, flipping through more records while talking.
"She plays old music constantly when she cleans."
Gael leaned lightly against the booth beside her.
"That feels specific."
"She becos emotionally powerful with a mop."
"That sohow sounds accurate."
Haley laughed before holding up another album.
"Wait, she'd actually love this one too."
Gael watched her for a second quietly.
"What?"
"You buy things for your family a lot."
Haley shrugged lightly.
"They like random stuff."
Simple answer.
Still, sothing warm settled in his chest listening to her talk about them so casually.
Because underneath all the sarcasm and chaos, Haley cared deeply about her family.
More than people usually noticed.
"You're doing the quiet thing again," she said.
"I'm observing."
"That's my mom's line."
Gael smirked faintly.
"That's concerning."
Haley narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"You know what's weird? You and my mom actually get along really well."
Honestly, Haley wasn't wrong.
Talking to Claire had beco… easy.
Natural in a way Gael hadn't expected months ago.
Not because of attraction.
Because Claire genuinely listened.
And because she challenged him enough that conversations never felt shallow.
"You know she trusts you now, right?" Haley asked while standing again.
Gael looked at her carefully.
"What makes you say that?"
"My mom only relaxes around people she trusts."
Before he could answer, Haley grabbed his hand again and started pulling him deeper into the market.
"Co on."
"Where now?"
"There's a food truck with the best tacos."
"That's the least threatening thing you've said all day."
Haley grinned over her shoulder while sunlight caught in her dark hair.
And sowhere between flea-market records, beach air, and Haley dragging him through crowds laughing—
Gael realized he hadn't thought about his old life once all morning.
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