Home sweet home. Cyrus stood in front of the place he was raised, a square grey house alongside the other grey square houses. He entered the password for the gates, hoping it didn't change. It didn't, so he went to the black door, knocking on it and putting his hands behind his back afterward.
"Darci, are we expecting anyone?" A voice asked within the house. Even his father's distant voice was enough to make him fix his posture.
The door opened, and the tall man looked down at Cyrus, his eyes becoming somehow even more narrow when he saw who it was, his wrinkles folding in the shape of a frown.
"Ah, Cyrus." He said calmly, wearing a smart looking pair of jeans and a navy dress shirt. "I suppose you won that television thing?"
"They're allowing us to stay home for a couple of days. Hence the guard."
"I see." Cyrus dad nodded. "Well, your mother is about to make a start on dinner, so I suppose you can stay a while. Your guard companion too."
