Dinner with Guest.
The heavy study doors closed softly behind Rias and Tsubaki, shutting the room up in warmth, quiet intimacy.
Leon relaxed slightly in his chair, extending his arms for a moment before resuming his concentration on the stack of papers still claiming his attention.
Aria, not being asked, slid neatly onto his lap.
He gave her a swift, laughing glance — but did not speak.
Instead, his arms reflexively went around her waist, holding her in as he got back to his work.
And the hours passed.
Aria reads each document into quiet attention, her voice a soft but stern strand running through the thick hush of the room. Leon listened, making quick corrections, signing letters, issuing orders—all with her sitting on his lap like a living weight.
