They left the showroom in silence.
Gabriel locked the main doors himself. Ethan waited on the steps, jacket folded over one arm, the night air cool against his face.
When Gabriel joined him they walked to the car without speaking.
The city moved around them in ordinary currents taxis, late office lights, the low murmur of people who had not spent the day defending something they loved.
In the passenger seat Ethan rested his head against the window. Gabriel drove with one hand, the other resting on Ethan's knee, thumb moving in a slow, absent stroke.
At a red light Gabriel asked, "Have you eaten since breakfast?"
"No."
"We'll fix that."
Ethan turned his hand over and laced their fingers together. "I'm not hungry."
"I know. We're still eating."
The light changed. Gabriel didn't take his hand back.
The apartment smelled of the morning coffee they had never fully cleared away. Ethan dropped his jacket on the chair by the door.
