In the suite's bedroom, Devon and Orion lay on one of the king-sized beds, the latter clinging tight to the former with his head resting on his chest.
Devon didn't mind the intrusion of personal space, brushing his fingers through the boy's blonde hair. "How are you feeling now, buddy?"
Orion sniffled although a smile slowly lit up his face. "Better. Thank you, papa."
"Don't mention it, kiddo. I just want you to know your daddy didn't mean to yell at you like that. He's just…" his lips pursed for a beat. "... Tired."
"C–Can he come rest with us then? There's enough space here."
Devon resisted the urge to chuckle, grinning instead. "I don't mean that kind of 'tired', little light."
He straightened his legs on the bed, head turning to the door for a second. Subconsciously hoping Ambrose would just walk in and try mending things with his kid.
But he was beginning to understand emotions weren't the Guide's strong suit. Fair—he felt the same way too before he met him.
