~Becklan's POV~
It wasn't Lan.
Leon was standing in the dim hallway, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar and the faint mark of the slap still visible on his skin.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
"I'm sorry," I blurted out immediately, the words tumbling over each other. "Sir, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to spill the wine, I didn't mean for any of that to happen, I—"
"Beck," he cut in, his voice firm but not angry. He stepped closer, his presence filling the doorway. "What is the problem? You've been off since this morning. I asked you in the car and you said you were fine, but clearly, you aren't."
"I'm okay, really," I insisted, looking at my feet. "I just feel terrible about the wine and the shirt and I'm sorry..."
Leon ignored my apology entirely. He glanced past me into my small, dimly lit room. "Can I come in?"
I stepped back instinctively, allowing him space to enter. He shut the door behind him, making the room feel suddenly very small and very private.
