The night air outside was cooler, thinning the wine-heavy warmth of the restaurant into something sharper against Elias's skin. He adjusted his jacket absently, the fabric familiar, worn just enough at the cuffs to remind him it wasn't new. Comfortable, practical, his own choice, not one of Victor's curated acquisitions.
Victor's hand hovered at his back as they stepped toward the car, not quite touching, but near enough that Elias could feel the quiet tether in the air between them. It was only then that he noticed the shift , heads turning as they passed, not at Victor this time but at him, at the faint, unmistakable mark of scent that clung to his skin like heat in winter.
"Victor."
