He looks up at Albus, who is standing exactly where Scorpius had noticed the model in the window, at the edge of the living room, his bare feet on the soft carpet. His right hand is outstretched, his left resting between his pubic mound and his thigh, an orange glow between fingertips and skin. His cheeks are flushed, his face covered in sweat, and he is breathing heavily as if he has been running.