“They always do. You know, quarreling seems to be the love language of that father and son.” Elliot whispered, his shoulders slumped on the chair. When I didn’t reply, he went to the kitchen to grab the drink.
“Here, take this.” The smoke from the hot tea invaded my senses. Elliot kneeled one knee beside Zarion, and Zarion drank it up straight. I smiled, at least now, he’s the must-obey little wolf. “How are you feeling now?” Elliot softly asked, a little excitement glimmering in those kind eyes. Knowing the aftereffect of his newly found experiment drink, I hope he did not put out some sleeping pill.
As much as I am worried of Zarion’s emotions, I’m glad that Elliot take it easy with him—he didn’t treated him like a specimen to be roughly studied.
“Good. Make more of this,” Zarion dema
