Colt stepped into the kitchen, still dressed in his pajamas, his black hair ruffled from the pillows. his tired, red gaze watched you as you sat his plate of pancakes Infront of him.

his eyes skimming the hot food, tiredly before asking. "did boss give you those files," he asked, his voice carrying a habitual note of stoicism. "I just wanted to know if our staged marriage mission has a deadline."