Jaxton leaned back in his chair again and placed his elbow on the on the armrest. The faint scent of sesame and jasmine still lingered in the air from the nearly empty lunch box on his desk. His eyes kept drifting back to the folded note sitting beside it.
You didn't eat. Don't argue. – A.
It wasn't grand. It wasn't dramatic, but it landed in his chest harder than it should have. The thought that someone took her time to make sure he was fed? To wrap it neatly, to write that note in her careful, sharp handwriting? It got to him more than anything had all day.
He didn't usually get soft over this kind of thing. He wasn't brought up that way, not after the kind of life he had led, but here he was, staring at the note like it was a love letter. It was like he had never had anyone look after him before and maybe he hadn't.
He picked up his phone before he could talk himself out of it and dialed Aneira's number.
It rang once.
Then her soft and sweet voice sounded in his ear.
