It was adorable.
My fingers drift back to my phone, unlocking it without thinking. The screen lights up on our messages, because that’s where my attention’s been ever since I got back, staring at them like they might change if I look long enough.
Thought about texting her. Good night. Or good morning. Something.
But now it’s way too late for that. Or too early. The sky is already starting to shift, the first hint of morning creeping in. That would be weird. Probably. Maybe I can wait. Text her later, when it makes sense.
Jesus.
No.
That’s pathetic.
I lock the phone and shift in my seat, sinking back into it, the quiet pressing in from all sides. I don’t feel like going inside.
?
You’re nice for a thief.
My neck aches like hell, stiff and wrong, and there’s a faint taste of drool at the corner of my mouth. The sharp sound of a text cuts straight through the fog in my head and drags me out of it. My eyes snap open, my head tilted awkwardly to the side.
I fell asleep.
I rub my eyes slowly, blinking against the light as I take in the inside of the car. The windows are still open, morning air drifting in, birds already awake and loud, the sun low but bright enough to make everything feel too real.
Early morning.
The notification.
I reach for my phone.
Sylvia: I need you in the basement, take Adrien.
My eyes fall shut again and I let my head drop back against the headrest with a quiet exhale.
My stupid brain really thought it was Kiara.
Of course it wasn’t.
I text Adrien and push the door open, stepping out of the car. Every part of my body protests—stiff, sore, heavy like I’m still half stuck in sleep. I managed two hours at best.
This is going to be a long day.
At least it’s Friday.
Why the hell does she want us in the basement?
I drag myself through the lobby, barely awake, when Adrien walks in from the opposite side. His eyes are red, dark circles carved deep underneath. He looks just as wrecked as I feel.
We stop for a second, just staring at each other—tired, irritated, done.
“You look horrible,” I mumble, voice rough as I fight off a yawn. “Didn’t sleep?”
“Not really. You?”
“Not really.”
The silence lingers for a beat, and then the corner of my mouth twitches. He catches it instantly, a grin breaking through his exhaustion as he shoves my shoulder lightly, something almost alive flickering back into his eyes.
