Gabriel raised a brow, lips twitching in a gesture that sat somewhere between exhaustion and reluctant amusement. "You're lucky I'm too tired to argue. And too hungry to refuse a bribe under the disguise of food."
Damian's eyes gleamed, golden and sharp and utterly pleased with himself. "Then I'll start with dinner and end with you."
"No." The answer came with the flat certainty of a man who'd had enough. Gabriel lifted one hand and pressed it directly over Damian's face, palm firm and unbothered, as if shutting down the conversation with the same energy one might use to swat at a persistent cat.
But unfortunately for him, Damian was regaining his smugness at an alarming rate—his mouth curved beneath the weight of Gabriel's hand, slow and unapologetic, the kind of smirk that could be felt more than seen, the kind that meant trouble was coming and already too close.
