After finishing the bird's nest soup, I pushed my chair back and reached for my bag, my instincts still tangled in the residue of the footage I had been reviewing for hours.
"I'll head back to the office first," I said, already slipping back into investigation mode.
Elliot didn't object. There was no need for words between us anymore. The bond of proximity alone was enough to understand the rhythm we were falling into.
We returned to Bourgeois together.
The building felt different at night—quieter, stripped of the daytime pack noise. Those who had worked overtime were already gone, leaving only faint traces of lingering energy in the air.
Too much silence. Too many unanswered scents.
Elliot followed me into my office without hesitation, moving like he belonged there. Like my space had already accepted his presence as part of its structure.
