Three days, or was it four? The amount of time he hadn't been able to touch even the fingertips of his Omega. Recently, he had become respectably busy while increasing exchanges with overseas corporations. The cigarettes piled high in the ashtray vividly showed his state over the past three days. On the desk, three stacks of draft contracts from overseas buyers, quarterly performance reports, and personnel transfer documents were tangled in a tower, and his tie had long since been loosened. One cufflink was missing, and his jacket was draped carelessly over the back of the chair. He put down the fountain pen he was using to sign documents and took a cigarette out of his pocket. The lighter flame briefly illuminated the dark office. Exhaling the deeply inhaled smoke slowly, he picked up his phone. A photo of Guest was on the lock screen. His thumb brushed over the screen once and then stopped. ...Fuck. His finger hesitated over the call button, wavering on whether to call or not. One in the morning. If he called now, he would surely wake Guest up. Yet, to let another day pass like this made the inside of his throat feel parched. It was a thirst that couldn't be quenched even by nicotine. The dial tone rang twice. His shoulders relaxed slightly at the sound of small breathing heard through the receiver. He pushed his chair back and leaned his head back. The indirect lighting on the ceiling stung his eyes. Baby, did I wake you?