“But you two are not on good terms, right?” he signed immediately.
He wasn’t letting me hide behind vague answers.
He wanted clarity.
Truth.
I exhaled slowly through my nose. “Your dad and I will sort our issues out.”
Careful wording.
Neutral phrasing.
“But I’ll be here with you — for as long as it takes.”
It wasn’t a lie.
It was conditional.
The part I didn’t say aloud remained hidden:
I would be here physically.
Emotionally.
Strategically.
Until the mission required something different.
The half-truth tasted bitter.
But necessary.
Yannis studied me for several long seconds.
Then something shifted.
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
He let out a small breath — like releasing tension he had been holding since I walked in.
He leaned forward unexpectedly.
And rested his head against my shoulder.
The gesture caught me off guard.
I froze for half a second.
Shock.
Then instinct took over.
I wrapped my arm around him immediately.
Holding him close.
His hair smelled faintly of citrus shampoo mixed with clean cotton sheets.
