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Adrien stood still in the doorway, and it felt like the space between him and Ethan shrank, almost like the air was tightening around us. Ethan attempted a smile, giving a shaky little nod trying once again to be civil to the person he hated to the core.
"Hey, man," he said, clearing his throat. "Hope you're, uh… having a great night."
Adrien didn't smile back. He didn't even fake it. Instead, he studied Ethan like he was checking out some old, spoiled milk. "It's fine," he replied, his tone sharp and cool. Then, he turned his focus to me. "Noah, come inside. It's getting late."
Wait, what the hell?
The way he said it sent a chill down my spine. It wasn't protective, like an older brother looking out for me, nor was it just annoyance at having to wait. It was something deeper, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
I blinked at him. "I—It's literally just a little past eight."
