Package from home

Slowly, he turned towards Fitzgerald, his body still noticeably stiff. He raised his hand, as if he were about to salute, but instead his fingertips pinched the bill of his ratty old flat cap. It must have been a switch of some kind, because immediately his body relaxed, and he gave a shy smile – as if knowing his happiness had been noticed embarrassed him. “Ah, good morning, sir. I got word that there's a package from my family waiting for me down at the office. I was just about to go and grab it, if you don't mind,” he said, almost too politely. God, why would Fitzgerald ever want to stop him? He said it not because he really believed that Fitzgerald would have ever considered, but to signal something – obedience, perhaps, in case Fitzgerald were to doubt it. It would be cruel to give him a different, urgent task right now, but why, he would go and do it, if he really had to, communicated those innocent blue eyes of his. Fitzgerald watched him curiously.