"Then I fall with you," Damian said simply. "But I'll carry you first."
"Romantic as always. Let me finish the meeting and we can go back to the rest of the day being ours. We still have it free by protocol."
Damian's lips curved, not into a full smile, but something softer, something that lived behind closed doors and beneath armor. "I'll hold you to that."
"You always do," Gabriel replied, pulling back just enough to smooth his hands down Damian's chest. He paused where the clasp of the robe had once rested, fingers lingering on the bare fabric now. "And don't even think of following me back into the meeting. You look like war incarnate."
"I am war incarnate."
"Yes," Gabriel said dryly, stepping away, "and I'm still the one they fear more when I raise a brow."
Damian watched him walk back to the table, straight-backed, calm, still haloed by the echo of execution and the certainty of command, and for a moment, just a breath, he let the weight fall from his shoulders.
