When Neville finally settled into his own chair, he had chosen the one farthest from Grayson. He kept his gaze firmly on his plate. Even if he frowned all day, Neville wouldn't notice it, and his thoughts would just spiral negatively.
He wasn't even in rut, why would he be scared of him? Did he leak some pheromones? Grayson sniffed a little. It didn't look like it was pheromones.
The food looked incredible—some kind of stir-fry with high-quality cosmic beast mixed with vegetables Grayson didn't recognize. The aroma alone made his stomach remind him he had skipped his morning nutrient solution.
It looked expensive; he should reimburse him later.
He picked up his utensils. "It looks good."
"Thanks." Neville's voice came out quiet and quick.
They ate in silence.
