the beginning after the end perfect duo

A Truce

"So who's taking the middle of the bed? It's the most comfy part, you know?" I asked, flopping down onto the mattress with a soft thump , letting my body sink slightly into the worn springs. The sheets were cool against my arms, faintly smelling of laundry soap and something older—like dust and memories tucked between fibers.

"I am," Lucas said flatly, stretching out like he already owned it. "I'm taking the whole bed. Who do you think you are, trying to share a bed with me? Plus... that's gay."

I froze mid-stretch, then turned my head toward him, one eyebrow creeping up. "Hold on there, big boy," I said, voice light but edged with mock warning. "This is our house, remember? We're doing you a solid letting you crash here at all. So how about a little gratitude—and normal speech—from now on?" I smirked. "And seriously, where the hell did an eleven-year-old even learn to say 'that's gay' like it's some kind of curse?"

Arthur snorted beside me, cracking a grin.

"Whatever," Lucas muttered, kicking off his shoes. "Still taking the middle."

"Oh, of course you are," I said, rolling my eyes. "All right, Arthur—you in on this? Middle spot up for grabs. You agree, right?"

He hesitated, then folded his arms behind his head. "Oh, I don't! I'm the eldest."

"Yeah, by six seconds ," I shot back, laughing. "That doesn't count as seniority."

"Guys!" Lucas snapped again. "Didn't you hear me? I said I'm taking the middle!"

"Shut up," we both said in unison, turning to glare at him like twin sentinels.

He threw his hands up. "Geez, okay! Fine—we'll fight for it."

"Nah," I sighed, suddenly feeling the weight of the long day settle into my bones. "Too late. I'm wiped. Let's just play rock-paper-scissors."

"Rock-paper-what?" Lucas and Arthur asked together, blinking.

I stared. "Come on, Arthur, you know rock-paper-scissors." Then I pointed at Lucas. "And you—surely your planet has something similar?"

"We've got Shield, Sword, Bow," Arthur offered, holding up his fingers. "One finger's a sword, palm's a shield, two fingers—a bow. Sword beats bow, shield beats sword, bow beats shield. Doesn't make much sense, really. Never did figure out why."

Lucas sat up straighter. "We've got Water, Fire, Earth. Three fingers for fire, none for water—just a fist—and palm for earth. Fire beats water, water beats earth, earth beats fire. Simple."

I grinned. "Cool. But mine's easier. Paper covers Rock, Rock crushes Scissors, Scissors cut Paper. Two fingers for scissors, fist for rock, open hand for paper. Classic."

"So which one?" Lucas asked, eyes flicking between us.

"Yours seems simplest, Tom," Arthur said, lying back. "Let's go with that."

"Alright, best two out of three," I declared. "Rock-paper-scissors... shoot! "

My hand formed a tight rock. Arthur threw scissors. Lucas, to my surprise, laid out a smooth paper.

"Ha! Covered, Arthur," I laughed.

"Again," Arthur insisted. "I wasn't ready."

"Fine, fine. Rock-paper-scissors... shoot! "

This time, I threw rock again. Both of them came at me with scissors—two sharp Vs cutting the dim lamplight.

I raised my hand like a champion. "Guess I win, ladies and gentlemen."