The quiet between them was different now, something shifting beneath the surface, something neither of them was ready to acknowledge but both of them felt. Kian sat at the edge of his desk, one hand resting against the polished wood, the other holding a glass of whiskey he hadn't touched. Adrian stood across the room, arms crossed, jaw tight, his expression unreadable, but Kian knew better than to mistake his silence for indifference. Adrian had never been indifferent. Not to him. Not to this. And yet, there was something in the air now—something dangerous, something unresolved.
Kian exhaled slowly, tapping his fingers against the glass, watching Adrian carefully. "You look like a man with something to say."
Adrian huffed out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. "I should."
Kian arched a brow. "But you won't."
Adrian's jaw tightened, his gaze sharp. "Would it make a difference?"