I sink into the couch, finally letting my spine loosen as a soft smile curves my lips. My head rests lazily against my hand, elbow propped on the armrest, eyes fixed on the food bag sitting on the table in front of me.
He came here for me.
He really came—just for me.
My chest warms. My smile grows. The moment he touched my temple, checking my fever… the worry in his voice… the softness in his eyes…
He worries about me.
He cares about me.
He came running because I looked pale yesterday.
A ridiculous, helpless little laugh escapes me. I can't control it. I feel like some silly boy who has finally been given the candy he begged for.
The door clicks open.
Lion enters. He freezes mid-step, staring at me like I've grown a second head. His grey eyes widen for a heartbeat before he lowers them and steps closer.
"Boss… you called me?"
I don't look at him—my gaze stays locked on the food bag, my smile refusing to fade.
"Lion," I say, almost dreamily, "serve this to me. I'm hungry."
