Dinner was… so fucking awkward.
Elias had survived gunfights, kidnappings, supernatural book-hopping, and Cassian Moretti's moods. Somehow, sitting at a perfectly normal dining table with his parents felt infinitely more like he would actually die... Of embarrassment.
The Quinn dining room smelled like roast chicken with veggies, and meatloaf. Elias sat stiffly in his chair, acutely aware of the man beside him, and his parents on the other side of him. Cassian was not helping; the alpha was sat like someone attending his own sentencing.
He held his cutlery and barely moved except to eat in precise, controlled motions. His shoulders were tight, jaw set, eyes flicking up every now and then to meet the openly curious stares directed at him from across the table.
His parents were not subtle. At all.
