Atlas was seated at the island in the Kalogeras kitchen, hunched over a bowl of pasta, a sandwich, and what looked like a side plate of salad. Her plate was a mountain of food, and yet she ate like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Sunday walked in, immediately rolling her eyes at the sight. "Mia turned you into a big back," she said, hands on her hips. "I swear every time I see you, you're always eating, man."

Atlas raised an eyebrow and grinned mid-chew. "Sorry, mahn," she said in a near-perfect imitation of Sunday's Canadian accent.

Sunday squinted at her, unimpressed. "Real funny. You're this close to being cut off from our fridge."

Before Atlas could reply, Demitra entered the kitchen, her laptop tucked under her arm. She was wearing one of Atlas's oversized hoodies, and her hair was pulled into a messy bun. She paused to take in the scene before walking over and planting a kiss on Atlas's lips.

"Hi, baby," she said softly.

Atlas smiled, her voice dropping as she replied, "Hey, mami."

Sunday groaned, throwing her hands up in mock frustration. "Mia, your girlfriend is clearing out our fridge! Again."

Demitra smirked, setting her laptop down on the counter. "So? Let my baby eat."

"She's gonna eat us into debt at this rate."

Atlas wiped her mouth with a napkin, looking between the two sisters with an amused expression. "You act like I don't contribute," she said. "You remember that big ol' pot of stew I made last week? That fed everyone for days."

Sunday waved her hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, but you're here eating all three meals every other day! I honestly don't understand how you're not suffering from obesity right now."

Atlas snorted, shaking her head. "I work out," she said, giving Sunday a pointed once-over. "Try it sometime."

Demitra snorted biting back a loud laugh, dramatically, blowing air between her teeth. "Ooooh, that's not nice, A."

Atlas smirked but held her hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, my bad. Sorry, Sunday."

Sunday looked between them, unimpressed. "Uh-huh. Apology not accepted, You shall be fat by the end of the week if you keep this up."

"It's okay, baby," Demitra said, patting Atlas's shoulder. "You're perfect just the way you are."

Sunday groaned again, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. "And I thought Eli and Noah were gross with all their lovey-dovey nonsense. You two are next-level."

Atlas laughed, leaning back in her chair. "Sorry?"

Demitra shot her sister a smug grin before turning back to Atlas. "What time's practice today?"

Atlas checked her phone. "In an hour, ima head out though, but I'll see all you beautiful people at eight. Bye, mami." She stood, pecked Demitra's lips one more time, and grabbed her gym bag. "Love you."

Demitra blinked, frozen for a moment as Atlas strolled out the door. It wasn't the first time Atlas had said it, but somehow, in the middle of the chaos of the kitchen, it hit differently.

"Love you too," she mumbled after Atlas had already gone.

Sunday caught the look on Demitra's face and smirked. "Aww, you're all soft now. Look at you, Mia. Head over heels."

"Shut up," Demitra muttered, though she couldn't help the smile creeping onto her face.

Later that night, the Kalogeras family gathered in the living room for dinner. It was an unofficial tradition on nights to sit down for a meal together, and Atlas, who had been welcomed into the family with open arms, was no exception.

Demitra was setting the table when Atlas walked in, freshly showered from practice. She was wearing a black hoodie and dark shorts, and she looked ridiculously good.

"Smells amazing in here," Atlas said, making her way to Demitra and pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Mom made moussaka," Demitra said, smiling up at her.

Atlas grinned. "You know that's my favorite."

"It's the only Greek dish you can pronounce," Sunday teased from the couch.

"Wrong," Atlas shot back, pulling out a chair. "I can also say... gyro."

Sunday laughed, and even Demitra had to shake her head at the way Atlas butchered the pronunciation.

Dinner was lively as always, with Demitra's parents asking Atlas about school and hockey while Sunday made sarcastic comments from the sidelines. Demitra sat close to Atlas, their hands brushing occasionally under the table.

Afterward, when the dishes were done and everyone else had scattered, Demitra pulled Atlas into the backyard. The night air was cool, and the stars were bright against the dark sky.

"Thanks for coming tonight," Demitra said, leaning against Atlas's shoulder.

Atlas wrapped an arm around her waist. "Always, mami. Your family's pretty great."

Demitra smiled, tilting her head up to look at her. "They love you, you know."

Atlas met her gaze, her amber eyes warm. "Good. Your dad is literally my bestie."

Demitra let out a laugh, and before she could second-guess herself, she leaned up and kissed her. It was soft and slow, the kind of kiss that made everything else fade away.

When they pulled apart, Atlas rested her forehead against Demitra's. "Is he really?"

"Oh yeah."