[ Most of the time, other times, he kinda worries about this trait of Koby's, the way he'll set himself on fire if it keeps everyone else warm. Tries to direct and channel it, rely on it only as much as he needs to, and trusts he's not the only person with Koby's best intentions in mind — hell, he remembers when Louis forced him off work.

Daniel sighs heavily. He should tell Koby to run away from whatever he's become. What he wants now isn't a coffee refill or a typed document, an extra set of eyes and ears. It's more visceral than that, asking Koby to offer up some essential, private part of himself. ]

Yeah.

[ Giving in to his worst instincts, voice low and cracked a little. The hunger and the anguish isn't fake, it doesn't need to me. ]

You know there is. But I can't — I can't ask you to do that, Koby. It's a big risk. Louis would kill me for even thinking about it.

[ Which he is, and it's clear in his gaze, fixed like a cat watching a moth. Never has Koby so completely and utterly held Daniel's attention. ]