Mashiro drove in silence, one hand on the wheel, his focus laser-straight. The streetlights slid across the windshield in steady rhythm. Beside him, Matthew leaned against the window, gum in his mouth, jaw ticking with every thoughtful chew.In the backseat, Arthur sat stiffly, staring out his own window like the night sky had answers.The silence lasted a beat too long.Then Matthew spoke.“So...” he began, voice too casual to be innocent, “what exactly were you and Cassidy whispering about after we left?”Arthur blinked. “I– we weren’t— I mean—” He tripped over every syllable.Matthew grinned. “Wow. You’re really bad at lying.”Arthur sank a little in the seat.“So,” Matthew continued, stretching the word like elastic, “you two are still a thing? After all this? Adorable.”Arthur stayed quiet.Matthew glanced at Masahiro, as if expecting some reaction. None came. Of course.He turned just enough to glance over his shoulder, one brow lift
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