"Wait," Esme's voice rang with quiet authority, halting the servant who had just approached Ray's wheelchair. At her signal, the servant immediately stepped back, retreating with a formal bow and standing at attention, clearly accustomed to such interruptions.
Esme stood from her seat, her movements graceful yet purposeful, her eyes softening as they met Ray's. Without a word, she walked up to him, her intent clear. In one fluid motion, she bent down and effortlessly scooped Ray up into her arms, as if he weighed nothing at all.
Ray, momentarily startled, glanced up at her with wide eyes before a familiar smile curved his lips. "You don't always have to carry me, you know," he teased lightly, though the affection in his tone betrayed how much he enjoyed these moments.
Esme smiled down at him, her eyes glowing with warmth and amusement. "But I want to," she replied softly, cradling him securely against her. "Besides, I like holding you."
