As Boris prepared afternoon tea in Silas’ office, he scrolled through his message thread between himself and Ivy, barely hiding his grin. He hadn’t expected her to want to text him as often as she did, but he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. Over the last four days, their sparse but sexually charged conversation had evolved into something much more familiar and easy. He had to admit, it was… lovely. That morning’s exchange had brightened his otherwise dreadfully boring block of meetings and phone calls.
