Aria dressed in smart dark denim jeans and a blue turtle-neck sweater that hid the bruising on the back of his neck. There was nothing he could do about the mark on his face but it was easier to sound believable when you made up excuses for that kind of thing if you were a man.

He went to Narim's office and stood just inside the door, leaving it open a little because it made him feel a little safer. He eyed the desk, the papers in one spot crumpled from having a struggling person pressed against them.

He swallowed and looked at Narim, offering him a little a smile.