"Do you have an extra pen?" Alaric asked, his tone light, too casual to be innocent.
He had one already; Armand knew that. But Alaric didn't want the pen. He just wanted to hear her talk, to know what her voice sounded like, what tone it carried. Something in him wanted to draw it out, even if it meant pretending he'd lost something he didn't need.
Armand's eyes flickered toward him sharply. He didn't say a word, but the glare he sent could've burned through the desk. When Alaric met it for half a second, he looked away on purpose, pretending not to notice.
Under the desk, Armand saw the pen Alaric had tucked away under the desk, and his expression hardened, his gaze going between the hidden pen and his brother like he had just lost his mind.
Athena turned slightly at the voice behind her. Just a glance over her shoulder, nothing too much, but the simple movement caught the light on her pale hair, a few white strands slipping down her face, softening her expression.
