Relief washed over Saint like a sluice, but, he sensed that he wasn't the only one feeling relieved by the outcome.
Beside him, he saw Oliver sighing and wiping sweat off his forehead while smiling at Baby.
He didn't need to guess anymore. Oliver wanted Baby.
Baby walked back to his seat, lowering himself with a groan.
"Baby –"
"A second," Baby raised his hand at Oliver while he suddenly leaned sideways and pressed his forehead on Saint's arm, shutting his eyes tightly as his head drummed louder than the music.
Oliver was stumped, he was silenced and neglected at the same time.
Saint was shocked.
Never in a thousand years would he believe that Baby would choose him as a support even for something as simple as resting in head.
It touched a part of his heart he never knew existed and softened him just a bit for Baby.
Baby was still brat, but Saint was starting to believe that under his brattiness was a baby who needed someone to lean on.
