Phoenix Flight HQ
Two hours.
It's been two hours already since Ambrose dodged out of his own suite, saying he had to go for an errand—an obvious lie.
Devon thought about this begrudgingly as he turned past different channels. Orion was fast asleep, his little head on his lap and body splayed on the sofa.
He'd have to take him to his room soon.
"It's almost eight in the freaking evening," he cursed for the umpteenth time. He might as well make it a chorus. "He's being so immature, avoiding a simple conversation with me."
At one point he'd considered just texting the Guide and telling him about his DNA test on Orion. But he dispelled the thought quicker than it came.
This kind of thing was something they had to discuss face-to-face.
He parted strands of Orion's silky blonde hair from his face out of habit. The boy seemed so… peaceful. It's been so long since he's let himself feel like this.
