9
Tobias
“Good morning,” Cove chirped, a little breathless from the walk up the stairs, though whether from exertion or anticipation I could not determine. His smile lingered as he reached the landing and held both bags more securely against his shoulder. “Hi, Ben.”
“Morning,” Ben replied easily beside me. “Welcome back.”
“Yes,” Cove said, glancing between us. “It feels weird being here like this.”
“Like what?” Ben asked.
“Like I’m supposed to be here,” he said, then flushed faintly as though he had not intended to say that aloud.
“You are supposed to be here,” I replied.
His expression softened at that in a way I found immediately gratifying.
We stepped aside to allow him space to move through the entry hall, and as he crossed the threshold, I watched the way his gaze lifted instinctively toward the ceiling and the long corridor of glass beyond it, the same way it had the first time he visited.
He still looked as astonished as before.
That pleased me as well.
He shifted his shoulder bag again as we began walking, and his smaller insulated container knocked lightly against his hip.
I spared a glance at it, which he happened to catch.
“Oh,” he said quickly, cheeks warming. “I wasn’t sure how food was going to work, so I brought lunch just in case.”
There was hesitation in the explanation, as though he expected he might have done something incorrect.
“You will not need to do that,” I said, clarifying. “I will be providing breakfast and lunch while you are here. And dinner as well, if your work extends later into the evening.”
His steps faltered as he listened.
“Wait, really?”
“Yes.”
“That’s really generous,” he said, his eyes wide. “Thank you.”
“It is practical,” I replied. “Your work requires consistency. It would be inefficient for you to leave during the day.”
“That makes sense,” he admitted, though he looked a little overwhelmed by the adjustment.
Ben made a quiet sound beside us that I chose not to interpret.
We continued down the corridor toward the main aquarium wing, stopping at the door to his new office.
Pushing it open, I told him, “This will be your workspace.”
Cove looked taken aback as he entered, his gaze flicking from the desk to the monitors, to the couch, the windows, and the bathroom door.
“Wow,” he murmured. “I wasn’t expecting an office at all, let alone one so… nice.”
He set his shoulder bag down beside the chair, eyes catching on the monitors. The screens reflected faint movement across his face as the tank feeds shifted in real time.
“You can see everything from here…” he said.
