Derek was halfway through a stack of the security border reports when he heard the front door of the mansion open.
He recognised the footsteps immediately. He would have recognised them anywhere by now. And that intoxicating scent that followed it was like none other.
As her footsteps grew closer and closer, he quickly closed the document folder, set it down, stretched himself out along the couch, and shut his eyes.
The couch was not built for a man of his size. His feet hung off one end, and his neck was bent at an angle no sleeping person would tolerate. He ignored all of it and arranged his face into something he hoped resembled deep, innocent sleep.
He had no idea why he was doing this. He simply was.
Kira went upstairs and changed into a casual outfit before heading towards the kitchen to get some water. On her way down, she stopped by Derek's study and pushed the door open, but it was empty: the desk lamp off, the chair pushed in.
