Held in the Reestablishment's grip, Kenji Kishimoto and Rome Vera find solace within each other. But as war looms and betrayal threatens their fragile bond and with sacrifice on the horizon, can their love survive? Or will it be forever hidden in th...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Chapter Two
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
"𝗔𝗗𝗔𝗠 𝗢𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗡 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗦 someone out named Warner," James points out after a few moments of silence, trying to hide the growing smile on his face while walking ahead of me.
"Oh, he probably doesn't like Adam that much then."
As much as I appreciate Adam, I can understand why his boss might be frustrated with him. He can be a pain. Often. Always if we're being honest.
I quicken my pace to catch up to the blonde, making use of my long legs with a few longer strides. I play with the loose strings of the basket as I'm walking, occasionally twisting them into knots and then unraveling them.
It keeps me from picking at my hands out of boredom, a little tip I picked up from Ingrid.
"Well," James's grin only seems to get bigger. "Adam told me some examples—" He doesn't care to avoid eye contact as he waits for my reaction.
"That's fun," I comment, rolling my eyes playfully, ignoring the blatant reaction he's trying to elicit from me.
At James's age, it's no surprise if he says a bad word here or there. I don't mind, if you asked Ingrid or anyone for that matter, I used to have a mouth on me. But Adam prefers that James avoids such language.
It's ironic, considering Adam's own colorful vocabulary.
"Well, he said something like how Warner was a piece of shit who—"
My hand slaps over his mouth as he erupts into a fit of giggles. My hand doesn't muffle much noise; his laughs echo along the pathway, filling the air with youthful mirth.
"I don't think Adam would like to hear that," I say, my tone mock-serious. James immediately turns still, looking at me with pleading eyes.
Now it's my turn to poke fun at the blonde.
Averting my gaze to the grass, I raise a finger to my chin in a theatrical gesture. "I might tell him. What do you think?"
His distressed face is laughable. He shakes his head so vigorously that his neat hair becomes messy once more. Without missing a beat, he swipes it back, pushing the loose strands aside to see my expression.
