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Summary
Olivine is quickly up on his feet, and Quincy mourns the sight as he smoothes his robe over his figure to fully cover himself. “I was not expecting you to be so early.”
“I stopped by yours first.” The older man replies, setting Olivine’s present down by his desk. The younger man stalks closer, meeting him in the middle, his smaller hand set over Quincy’s, and he quickly takes it in his palm. “Doubt that old fox would be asleep anyway.”
Olivine giggles. “I’m not asleep either, though.”
“I was hoping you weren’t.”