"Don't even worry about it." Chris leans forward, his hands resting on the arms of the chair and his blonde hair falling forward. Where Zander usually smells like laundry detergent, Chris smells like thick hair products that make Ethan's nose twitch. "I was concerned about you anyway." The omega sighs. "I actually wanted to ask. . ." He shifts in his spot, as if he's unsure of whether or not to keep going.
"What is it?" Ethan asks after a yawn. He really just wants to go to sleep, but asking Chris to leave will just be rude.
"Well, my dad's a politician, you know?" He tucks his hair behind his ear and taps his finger against the chair. "He receives the best care and treatment. I can take you to his primary care doctor if -"
