The question left Dean's mouth and didn't dissolve into the plane's hum the way smaller questions did. It stayed. Sharp. Heavy. Like it had the right to demand a real answer.
Arion's gaze held his for a moment, and the look made Dean feel like he was being evaluated for structural integrity.
Dean hated that feeling.
He also hated that he needed it.
"I'm not asking you to sell me the engagement," Dean said quietly, before Arion could begin. "I'm not… having second thoughts about the contract."
Arion let out a long breath, the kind that sounded like he'd been holding himself back for hours. "I'm not implying that," he said. "I'm… taking a little more time to phrase it in a way that won't hurt you again."
Dean's brow lifted, half amused, half curious. "So you learned to be careful with your words?"
Arion's mouth twitched. "If you're asking whether I've stopped thinking you're mine," he said calmly, "no. I'm choosing my words. The meaning is still there."
