Theo didn't stop walking, but his pace slowed enough to suggest he'd expected the greeting, if not the exact choice of weapon.
"I think you'd miss," he said quietly, stepping into view.
Gabriel finally glanced up.
Theo looked like a man who had run here, then remembered halfway that he wasn't supposed to. His coat was unbuttoned, collar askew, and his hands were shoved too deep into his pockets for someone born into etiquette.
He didn't look angry.
Just tired. In that particular, familial way, you were correct, and I despise that fact.
Gabriel gave a dry hum. "I'd make an effort."
Theo exhaled, then sat down slowly at the opposite end of the bench, leaving a respectable ocean of space between them. The distance of caution. Of guilt.
The quiet stretched between them like a held breath.
