Caerus watched Deimos approach him, felt slightly better at his words but still feeling as though he’d over-stepped some boundary, which was sort of funny considering he now had Deimos’ arms around him and Deimos’ head against his stomach. This was far closer than most people got. Caerus was careful to hold himself in, to keep from influencing his nephew or what happened in any way. He looked down and placed a hand on Deimos’ hair.
“Really, Deimos, if you don’t want it, it’ll be gone. I don’t mind. I only did it because I thought you might like it.” Caerus looked around the mostly bare room, then back down. “Will be Phobos be back later?”