My eyes land on him immediately.
I didn’t even hear him enter. But somehow, he’s in the room and the door’s shut behind him.
“Cillian!”
His name escapes my lips in a breath of relief.
He smiles. It’s more tempered than it was when we first met. Less of the cockiness. More honesty in it.
“Were you sleeping?” he asks.
“No, no,” I say, getting to my feet. “What are you doing here?”
I realize he’s got one hand firmly planted behind his back. He pulls it out and I half expect to see a gun.
Instead, I see…
“Flowers?”
I stare at him in bewilderment.
He smiles, his light blue eyes managing to twinkle even under the hospital room’s pathetic fluorescent lights.
“Something to brighten up the room,” he says, handing them to me.
I’m so stunned that I actually accept them.
“How did you even get in?” I ask. “Non-family visitors aren’t allowed at this time.”
He smirks. The cockiness makes him look taller somehow. “Those kinds of rules don’t usually apply to me.”
Of course not.
“You didn’t answer my question. My first question,” I point out, looking down at the pretty collection of roses and baby’s breath. “What are you doing here?”
“I would have thought the answer is obvious,” he says. “I came to speak to you.”
“About what?”
“A few things,” he says. He trails off as he looks around the room before his eyes land on Da. “How is he?”
Is that actual concern I hear in his voice?
I’m hoping my preoccupation with his looks is not holding my judgement hostage.
“He’s… not great,” I say. “He was shot, in case you don’t remember.”
“Right,” Cillian says. “Well, that’s what happens when you play with the big dogs.”
“Some dogs need to be put down,” I snap.
To my surprise, he smiles.
Again, I note that there’s something different about his smile this time. It’s not as… fully realized as the first time we’d met, if that makes any sense at all.
“You may be right about that.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You’re agreeing with me?”