Elethior saunters in, peeling off aviator sunglasses, backpack hanging on his shoulder, black leather jacket tight over an eggshell-blue shirt. His hair is pulled up at the back of his head, showing the buzzed side and his slightly pointed ears, and he’s in jeans with those dumbass motorcycle boots again. Black leather component harnesses squeeze each thigh. He stops as the door closes behind him. He looks at the room from left to right with deliberate precision, surveying the workstations, the shelves, the marble dais, until he gets to me. He sucks his teeth. “Sebastian.”
Daddy I love him
