Damian sat there, his hands resting on his knees, his glass forgotten on the table and his crimson eyes fixed on Felix's face without saying anything.
What could he even say?
That he was sorry for existing? That he wished his birth family had just died quietly without dragging anyone else into their fate?
The words wouldn't come, trapped somewhere between his chest and throat.
"..."
The silence stretched between them, heavy with the weight of everything that had been laid bare in this room.
Then Damian bowed his head slightly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Thank you for keeping my identity a secret, Vice Director Onyx." He paused. "And for every time you helped, even when you didn't have to."
Felix hadn't said it explicitly, but Damian knew.
The man standing across from him was one of the reasons he was still alive, still breathing and still able to pretend he was just another commoner with unusual hair.
