“Dopamine means you’re happy,” Cove observed, grinning.
Ciaran would not respond to such ludicrous accusations. He would instead talk about a random star that housed many planets with the potential to harbor life.
Cove moved closer to Ciaran, their knees touching. The honey-hued eyes of Cove did not look at anything Ciaran was talking about. They looked at him. Cove tested Ciaran, pushing his knee against his. Ciaran was a prince who needed no such affection. His knee pressed back, rubbing against Cove’s leg. It was the ultimate betrayal from his own body.
“You always smell like cinnamon,” Cove whispered, his lips hovered near Ciaran’s neck as he inhaled. “I like it,” Cove muttered, leaning in further. He smelled the top of Ciaran’s silk robe.
“Yes, well, you smell of salt water after
