Chapter Four

I woke up, my eyes hating the light.

Sytra's excited voice overwhelmed me. "What happened last night? I'm dying to knoww!!" She exclaimed, jumping up and down next to my bed.

I sat up and rubbed my face. Then I looked at the trespasser. She was dressed casually, not wearing her uniform from when I met her at the bar. She had a faded orange tank top lined in black, and checkerboard shorts. She loved athletic clothing, even in her sleepwear. Her unkempt, frizzy dark brown hair tumbled loosely down her shoulders. It bounced around when she moved.

My room was a welcome sight. It had been mine for as long as I could remember. I had drawings and paintings hung up on one wall, songs and sheet music on another. I had splattered teal on my walls for effect. My sheets and pillows were dark gray, the covers black with two teal stripes, one thick and one thin. I had a neon teal sign above my bed that read, create. It flickered from time to time, and I loved it for that. A sleek modern black dresser stood off to the side. A small black bar displayed the time: 1am. Modern lights hung in rectangles above me. The bathroom's door sat on the wall to the left.

It was heaven to me.

Since I had fallen onto my bed with no sleeping preparation whatsoever, I still had on my jacket. The many secret pockets were clunky with gear, and my grappler was still attached to my wrist. Apparently, I had slept in a weird position that had pushed the grappling hook's metal wristband into my skin. It left a red imprint when I took it off.

"Well," I said, rubbing my sore wrist. "We blew up an illegal gun operation."

"Pshh," Sytra made a noise with her mouth, flopping her hand. "Boorrriing. How was the date?? Where'd you go? Did you two kiss?!"

I laughed, my sleepiness fading. Her excitement was contagious. "It wasn't a date. But if you insist, yes, our night out was fun. Dix dropped a bomb on a warehouse while he whisked me away bridal-style. That was sweet–"

She cut me off with a girly squeal. "He carried you away?!"

I sighed. "You didn't let me finish. My leg was practically on fire." I pulled up my pant leg to reveal the bandage. Her face paled when she saw the dried blood, her excitement quickly silenced.

I narrowed my eyes. "The guns held a chemical of some kind that could turn into deadly burning shards. One got my calf. I was in searing pain. Anyways. He brought me a couple roofs over, and bandaged me up."

That made her face light up. "Aww!! That is so cute!" She exclaimed.

I smiled weakly, my uncomfortable night's rest catching up to me. "Yeah. I guess it is."

"So where'd you go??" She bounced, jumping onto my bed beside me. "Where did that romantic hottie take you off to?"

I sighed, leaning back. "You have to stop, Sytra," I said with a little laugh, rolling my eyes. I pushed her, and she fell over onto my covers dramatically. "Well, he took me to Color Central."

Her eyes widened, and she bolted upright. "Color Central?! The newest color market? The best one??"

I took my jacket off. Talking about Dixter was making me hot. My teal paint slash shirt felt less choking. "Yes, Sy. It was amazing! You'd absolutely love it. We should go sometime."

"Ooh, that'd be fun." She said, watching me hop off the bed and stroll over to my dresser. Suddenly, she remembered her excitement. She sprung up. "But the date! Did you guys kiss?!"

I calmly opened the black dresser drawer and pulled out a black tank top. It had two teal stripes down its side. I smiled, my back to Sytra. I remembered the moment in the elevator. "Well.."

She leaned forward on my bed, her eyes wide. She started bouncing again. "Tell me!" She exclaimed.

I turned around, the tank top in hand. I looked her in the eye. "Fine. Yes, he kissed me in the elevator."

She gave a high-pitched squeal. I cringed, the sharp note ringing in my ear. "Aww, I knew it! You two are made for each other."

"About that," I paused, remembering what Chief told us in her office. I moved to a part of the room where she couldn't see me, and changed. I quickly reappeared in the tank top. "We went and spoke with Chief. Something.. weird happened. We bought paint and started throwing it and.." I paused and looked away from her excited face. "Our colors burst together in the sky. It was purple, a mix of our two colors."

She looked curious, tilting her head a little. "That's weird. What did Chief say?"

"She said that it usually means that the colors belong to two soulmates."

She jumped off my bed out of excitement. "No way! So my guess was right!" She beamed.

I smiled, her excitement spreading. I started tying up my long teal-streaked hair. "Yeah. He asked me if I thought we were, and.." I pulled the hair tie tight. "And he kissed me."

She squealed for the millionth time. It was starting to get on my nerves. "Hopefully he comes to see you this morning! I bet he's star-struck."

I laughed. "By yours truly." I looked at her, not believing it.

"Yes! You're smart and pretty and an amazing agent. How could any boy not like you?"

I smiled at her. "You're like a sister to me, Sytra. Thank you."

She beamed again. "C'mon. You look like you need pancakes."

I told her I needed to finish getting ready, and she could start making them. She just smiled and jumped out of the room, taking her bouncing energy with her.

I closed the door quietly. Finally. Some peace.

I'd been through a lot. Sytra's energy was welcome, but draining. And my uncomfortable night's rest wasn't exactly refreshing. I sighed, and started changing pants. My exhaustion was catching up to me. I figured this was how Chief felt all the time.

My bathroom was off to the side of my room. It was modern, with sleek appliances and a dark theme. I'd hung some art around the glass mirror, adding a bit of life to the dull place. I'd rimmed the edges of the mirror with teal lights to give it a sparkling effect. My shower curtain was hanging farther into the bathroom. It was black, but I'd splashed it with teal. The tub was black and modern, with a clean and angled look. My few hair products stood along its edges.

I walked through the door and looked into the mirror. Staring back at me was a version of myself that I'd never seen before. I had light bags under my eyes. My hair was in a messy black bun with streaks of teal weaving in and out of it. My double-striped tank top snugly fit my torso. My pants were loose fit and were pretty comfortable.

Even though I looked a little tired, there was a light in my eyes. A shine I'd never seen before. A light like something in me had woken up, even if it was just for a moment. Something deep in my past had come to the present and shaken up my soul. And I had no idea what it was.

It was like a promise of someone I could be. A glimpse of the person that I could become.

But my eyes had a softness to them, too. Like maybe the hardened part in me was loosening up.. to love.

I leaned forward towards the mirror, my hands on the rim of the sink. I looked into my own eyes, looking into their depths. Why were you glowing? What secrets do you hold?

Do you really love Dixter?

I leaned back, feeling ridiculous. I turned the sink on and let the water pour into my hands. I leaned down and splashed my face. Wake up. You're not getting answers that way.

"Feckter?" Sytra called from the kitchen. A sizzling sound followed her voice. "Pancakes are ready!"

"Coming!" I yelled back. I looked at this odd reflection one last time, then turned and walked out, my back to the mirror. I closed the door with a gentle thud.

I dragged my tired self through my bedroom door. Sytra was pouring smooth, tan batter into a gently used cooking pan. She spread the sizzling piled mess into a nearly-perfect circle. She glanced up, noticing me. She nodded her head to a heaping pile of fresh, warm pancakes on a breakfast plate. It looked to be about seven, all in a heavenly stack. "All yours."

My mouth watered. I almost ran to the row of bar stools. The butter and maple syrup stood next to the plate, and I quickly got to work. Soon enough, I had a warm, melty, syrupy pile of perfect pancake goodness. The maple syrup was soaking into the pancakes, the butter melting into islands of pastel yellow. I grabbed a fork and knife and dove in.

The sugary warmth was exactly what I needed. I felt my tired and shaken up body relax. A cold feeling I'd had ever since last night melted away, along with all of my fear and doubt. My inner self relaxed for the first time in a while.

I took a deep breath, just enjoying the moment, feeling the tastes on my tongue. I was finally at peace.

Then I heard a knock on the door.

I froze, my fork stilled mid-air. Sytra looked up from putting a pancake on her own plate, finishing a stack of five. "Wonder who that could be."

She turned around and put the pan down. "You can get it."

"Okay," I said with a mouthful of pancake. I set my fork down quickly, looking at my two remaining pancakes. I swallowed and hopped off the stool. I wasn't presentable, but honestly, I didn't care.

I opened the door and stepped back. Dixter stood at my door, in fresh clothes and clean hair. He wore a gray v-neck and casual black pants, and the red dyed ends of his hair looked more vibrant. He'd taken off his red, thin headband. His tanned skin looked clean. He stuck his hands in his pockets nervously. "Hey."

Here was the boy that had just kissed me last night, the one I'd had a crush on. The boy that had probably taken a shower just for me.

My heart rate spiked. My mind worked overtime to come up with an intelligible response. "Um. Hi."

I glanced down at my clothes. "Sorry, I'm not exactly.. ready."

He gave a little laugh, the one that I loved. "No, it's fine. You look great."

I opened the door wider. "You can come in. Sytra's making pancakes."

"Ooh, really? Hers are the best."

I smiled at the comment. She honestly was the best. Sytra had been my dorm mate since the day I had been welcomed in by the agency. We'd been through a lot together. We'd supported each other through our toughest times. It wasn't exactly easy living as an orphan in Kistra, even if you were taken in by B.L.A.D.E.

For as long as I'd known Sytra, she'd been this passionate, loud person that always knew how to spice up a get-together. My best friend, my adopted sister. She was amazing, and I trusted her with my life.

Dixter walked in, and I imagined seeing our dorm for the first time. The dorms vary in arrangements and house different numbers of people, and they weren't all the same. B.L.A.D.E. dorms can house anywhere from one to eight people. But no matter the rooms or the amount of people, each dorm was always clean, modern, and had a theme of black.

Our type of dorm was for two people. It was assigned to us by Chief when we had just begun training. I asked her about it once, and she explained it to me. She'd had a feeling that our personalities were the exact opposite, and that we'd become the inseparable best friend duo. She was right, of course. She always was.

A two person dorm had the kitchen and living room in the middle, and the bedrooms to the left and right. Mine was on the left, Sytra took the right.

A living room with modern, low dark oak chairs sat in the middle. A modern rug sat underneath all of the furniture. The chairs faced a flat-screen TV along one dark oak-paneled wall. The coffee table in the middle sat as low as the chairs. It was modern as well, with the same glass top as the desk in Chief's office. It could project holograms as well. Both holograms were high-tech, and could show you just about anything you wanted. And they weren't like the projections you'd see in old movies. They were crystal clear, even if they were a little tinted.

The kitchen sat behind the living room. It was sleek and modern as well, with sheek countertops and a full-sized stainless steel fridge. Steel lights hung down. A stainless steel modern sink was next to the same style of dishwasher. A stove top sat on one countertop.

Whenever we were ready to cook, we fingerprinted the glass top. Then we picked a heat circle and lifted a hand up. Glowing orange rings upwards determined how much heat you wanted. Then the circles on the stovetop glowed red with electric heat.

Pancake batter had dripped on the glassy surface, but we didn't mind. We had wonderful syrupy slices of heaven to enjoy.

Sytra had quickly cooked up a stack for Dixter as soon as she saw that we had company. She wiggled her eyebrows at me, like Your crush is in our dorm. What are you gonna do about it?

I finished and picked up my plate. I walked over to the sink, putting it in. "Well, I'ma go get ready. I'll be back in a bit." I walked off, leaving the two of them, my best friend and my crush, to talk about our "ship." I could almost see his ears turned red whenever Sytra brought up the little scene in the elevator.

I made my way over to my room, loving its vibe. It was so calming to me. It was mine, the one room in Kistra that I had all to myself.

I calmly collected my things and went to shower. About 10 minutes later, I emerged, steam spilling out onto my bedroom floor. My hair was wrapped in a towel, and I was dressed in a nice black blouse and dark gray jeans. Silver buttons ran down the middle of my shirt in a row. The jeans had deep pockets and hidden sleeves. Exactly what any agent would need.

I unwrapped my hair, and started brushing. I heard a knock on my door. "Come in." I called.

Dixter stepped through my bedroom door, then stopped. "Whoa," he breathed. He looked around at all the artwork and lyrics. Black furniture was scattered throughout the room. Teal highlighted almost everything. "Your room is amazing."

I smiled, turning around. My streaked hair was brushed straight. "Thanks."

He looked down at his feet. "Last night, I.." He lifted his head and looked me in the eye. "I think I fell in love with you."

I sucked in a breath, almost dropping the hairbrush. "Yeah.. I-I think I fell for you too." Truth was, I'd had a crush on him for a while. The way he'd been acting made me think that that was true for him as well.

He took a step closer. "Feckter, I wish.." He trailed off, looking into my eyes. We got closer. Our faces were only a few inches apart, and then–

"Agent Dixter. Agent Feckter." Chief's voice echoed through the room. We instantly took steps backward.

"Ahh, not again!" I exclaimed, looking around frantically. I waved my hands, remembering that it turned off the projection in the elevator. "What, Chief? Can you see us?!"

"No. I'm using the intercom for your dorm, and I have audio. Did I interrupt something?"

My face reddened, and my voice was embarrassed. "No.. Nothing." Dixter seemed a little flushed as well. He looked around, then spoke to the walls. "Isn't there a meeting, Chief?"

"Yes, agent. Now move your behinds before I call this meeting off."

"You didn't exactly give us a time," I mumbled. I pulled Dixter out of my room. "We're coming. Which room? The one on level seven?"

"Right. Hurry up. The executives are waiting."

"Yes, Chief." Dixter and I said in unison, speed walking. We quickly waved Sytra goodbye. She turned her hands outwards, like What? You two are gonna leave me to clean up our pancake mess?

I only smiled apologetically before Dixter tugged me out. "C'mon. We're late." He said softly.

"Okay." I replied. We came to this almost-sprint. We rushed into the elevator at the end of the hall. I pressed seven, and the elevator's doors closed. We started moving upwards.

A moment passed, then Dixter spoke. "I wonder if Chief would stop us this time." He said, looking at me.

I laughed. I almost said Wanna find out? "I don't think we should test her."

Dixter moved closer to me. "I'm willing to take that risk."

I gave a short laugh and put a hand on his chest to stop him. "No, Lover Boy. Not now. Not while she's mad at us," I paused, glancing around for hidden cameras. "She's probably watching us right now. She'd interrupt us again anyway."

"Later?" He pleaded, giving me puppy dog eyes.

I sighed. "Yes, fine. Later. When we're not about to plan the fall of M.A.S.K."

I really needed to concentrate.

"Okay." He replied, turning away sadly. I smiled at the movement. As soon as I'd returned his feelings, he'd just wanted to love me.

The elevator chimed, and we stepped out onto the seventh floor. We speed walked to the meeting room and quickly heaved open the heavy dark oak door. It matched the office doors upstairs.

Twenty-one heads turned towards us. The room quickly fell into a heavy silence.

To break the lengthy tension, Chief said, "Ah. The two who had destroyed an entire warehouse last night. Please, come in. Take a seat."

The executives were the agency's council. They were the top dogs, the go-to's. They helped Chief be chief of B.L.A.D.E, and they gave her advice. She listened to them.. most of the time.

The executives were a group of older people that had either been Chief in the past or top agents. They had a lot of experience in the field, and many valuable things to say. They were wise and respected among B.L.A.D.E. members.

They sat at a long, dark oak table. The table had glass areas for each seat, presumably to project holograms. Chief stood at the farthest end, clearly mildly upset and understandably tired.

Dixter and I took our seats. Chief glared at us, and we gave her faces of apology. "Ahem. As I was saying, executives, these two agents took out an entire illegal gun operation in the Eastbound area. They managed to do so mostly unharmed and with no witnesses. They have proven to be top agents of B.L.A.D.E. Does anyone object?"

She looked around the room. Most of the executives shook their heads. One graying man asked, "And how did they do it?"

We looked at Chief, and she nodded. Dixter looked at the man with a slightly proud expression. "I dropped a bomb on the way out," he said with that odd smile. Mr. I-Like-Explosives was back. "Remote-controlled. We cleared out and I pressed the button."

He bobbed his head. "Clearly an effective move."

Chief nodded again. "Yes sir. Does anyone else have comments?" She looked around. "No? Okay. Last night, Agent Feckter explained Plan C to me. It was worth a shot, and I bring it to you."

She proceeded to thoroughly go through Plan C, leaving nothing out. She used the glass panel at her end of the table to project M.A.S.K. headquarters. She pointed to the areas of the skyscraper as she went. Heads nodded. They seemed to like the idea.

"Executives, I need your advice. You've been a part of this agency for much longer than I have. You are our roots, our base, our wisdom. You've been through things. But this is something else," she paused, leaning forward. She looked everyone in the eye. "This is war."

Some gasped. Others looked petrified. Everyone looked unsettled. One man stood up and started pacing.

"Everyone, please. Executive Dayfel, would you please sit down," Chief took her seat. She watched him sit down. "Thank you. In these times, we must be calm. The talk of war would unsettle the agency, and we should only tell everyone once it's absolutely necessary. The plan needs to be checked over many times. It needs backups of backups. We have to be extremely cautious."

The more Chief talked, the more reassured the room felt. It was good to have someone taking control and settling the room.

"...And we'll finish up here with everyone's promise. No one speaks of this. No one outside of this room should know of the coming war until we're ready to tell them. Mass panic is the opposite of what we need." Chief looked everyone in the eye. "Can I have your word?"

"Yes, Chief." We all said in unison.

"Perfect. This news must not leave this room. I'll give assignments now," she paused and tapped her glass panel. M.A.S.K. HQ collapsed into a flat image, then disappeared. She double tapped, and a list of names and text came up. The floating tinted words were backwards to the rest of the table.

"Executives Desqur and Gisha, go over supplies. Executives Impji, Gefson, Higetster, and Kimplasir, check our numbers, how many agents are able to fight. Executives Dewsyr, Opwer, Hicez, and Jewslyr, I need you to come up with backups, calculate outcomes, everything we'd need. The rest of the Executives, work on checking the plan and coming up with more and hopefully better strategies," she paused and stared directly at Dixter and I.

"And you two. I have word of white shortblades being produced on Westbound. I need information and total termination. I'm counting on you," she leaned forward. "You've proven that you're capable of dangerous missions. Don't fail me. Not with war coming."

We agreed wholeheartedly. "Chief, thank you for your trust. We'll destroy the production." I said. I loved the trust, it made me feel like I was worthy of being a top agent. I felt like a little girl trying to make her mother proud.

"Good. I'll send Feckter the address." She leaned back. "Would you be stronger with Sytra?"

"No!" Dixter jumped forward. He cleared his throat. "No. It's fine, Chief. We did well last night."

I elbowed him. "Whatever you think is best, ma'am."

"Hmm," she looked us over. "Three is better than two, but you have become more coordinated with each other. I'll let the both of you decide."

She stood up, her voice strong. "Executives. You have your assignments. Thank you for your time. You are all dismissed."

Some people stood and began to leave, including Chief. We stood and walked out the door, then made our way down the hallway.

"Another mission?!" I whisper-shouted. "We just got back!"

"Hey, it's fine." He took my hand. "We'll do it together."

"Yeah," I said, glancing at our hands. "What about Sytra? Should we invite her?"

"I'm not sure." His tone told me he wanted to go with me alone.

I looked at him and sighed. "She might feel left out if we didn't." We stepped into the elevator. I pressed the button for my floor, and looked at him, like You gonna press your floor? He grinned. Of course he was coming with me.

I smiled. "Okay, come with me, I don't mind." He smiled even wider, like a little child.

The doors closed. I leaned against the back wall, tilting my head back. "I'm torn."

"Me too. Should I kiss you or not?" He quickly switched over from Child Mode to Romantic Hottie Mode. He stared at me for a while, and he had a look on his face like it was taking everything in him to not sweep me into his arms and kiss me.

I laughed. "Stop. We have a serious decision at han–" His lips pressed to mine, silencing me effectively. He put a hand on my waist, bringing us closer together.

The short kiss was interrupted by the elevator dinging. We looked over and saw Sytra in our dorm's doorway. She eyed us, and her voice echoed down the empty hallway. "C'mon, lovebirds. You left me to clean up your mess while you two went to a fun secret meeting." She gave us this sassy I cannot believe you look, her mouth twisting into a disappointed but not surprised smile.

We took a walk of shame over to meet her. She blocked the doorway and clearly wouldn't let us in until she heard someone apologize. "Sorry, Sytra." Dixter said with an embarrassed tone, looking down. He looked like a sad puppy.

But Sytra couldn't stay mad at us for long. "Fine," she huffed. "Come in."

She'd cleaned up. The sleek kitchen was clean again, the glass shiny, the counters sparkling. "Nice." I commented.

She nodded a thank you. "So what was the meeting about?"

"That's classified information." Dixter said in an imitation of Chief.

We all burst out laughing. Sytra's knees buckled, and Dixter bent over. All at once, the three of us seemed to remember our past as a trio. We all kind of missed it.

"Were.. we going to invite Sytra somewhere, Dixter?" I asked, recovering from laughing. I gave him a pointed look.

"Oh yeah!" He said, and kept silent. He was waiting for me to make a decision.

"Ooh, what is it!? Tell me!" She started bouncing.

"There's um.." I glanced at Dixter. "A movie! Tonight. 4am. The King of the Realms. Wanna come?"

Dixter breathed a barely-noticeable sigh of relief. Sytra looked at me. "Sure!" She turned her head to read the clock on the stove. "It starts in about an hour."

"Okay," Dixter said, glancing around. "So what should we do in the meantime?"

"Watch TV?" I suggested.

"Sure!" Sytra bounced over to the living room.

Dixter leaned his head down to be closer to mine. "You sure about this?" He whispered.

"Yeah," I whispered back, watching Sytra flop down on the couch. "We'd be better off doing this on our own." He looked at me for a minute, making sure I was confident.

She turned around. "Are you two coming?"

"Yeah." I said, walking over to join her.

I glanced at Dixter. "You wanna sit with me?"

He beamed, suddenly very excited at the idea of watching TV. "Yeah!"

"I'ma go get a hoodie, be right back." I said, watching his face fall. I laughed on the inside. He was such a child.

I walked into my room, heading towards my dresser. I grabbed some teal-lined comfortable pants and a black hoodie with the B.L.A.D.E. logo on it. I didn't like feeling like a walking billboard, but it was really soft.

I went into the bathroom and changed, fixing my hair. I was still tired from my uncomfortable sleep last night, so I could have fallen asleep right there. Somehow, I managed to make it out of my room.

Dixter sat sprawled on the couch like a sleepy, upset toddler. The second he saw me, his eyes lit up and he seemed to gain a lot of energy. He jumped up and patted the spot on the couch next to him.

I smiled at his behavior and sat down. He immediately curled up next to me. We lay there like that for a little while, just enjoying being in each other's warmth. He eventually moved forward and laid his head on my lap, and I started playing with his hair.

We were both so tired, and our closeness was so comfortable that we became really sleepy. Dixter was asleep in a few minutes, and I felt my eyes start to droop.

The next thing I know, I wake up to Sytra's voice. "C'mon guys, it's 4," She was shaking us awake. "The sun's rising in like three hours."

Apparently, I'd fallen asleep with my fingers tangled in Dixter's messy hair. He sat up and rubbed his face. "But I'm so tired," he mumbled, and fell dramatically back onto the couch.

"So tired." He whispered.

I laughed softly at him. At the sound of my voice, he opened his eyes and smiled at me.

"I don't know, Sy. I'm pretty wiped." I said with a massive yawn.

Dixter rolled off the couch and fell onto the ground. "Ow." His muffled voice said, his face squished into the carpet.

"See, Sytra? We're dead. Why don't you go on without us?"

She exhaled dramatically through her lips. "Fine! Fine," she said, exasperated. She eyed Dixter like he was a child about to be sent to the time-out corner. "Boy, you better go to your dorm as soon as I leave or I swear, I'm gonna kick your arse so hard yo–"

"Okay, okay! I'll leave as soon as I get off this carpet." He mumbled.

I laughed. "Bye, Sy. Enjoy your night out. Who knows? Maybe you'll find someone to spend it with." I gave her an encouraging smile.

"Thanks, Feckter. I'll see you two around." She smiled, then closed the door with a soft click.

"Can I have some help?" Dixter's smooshed face said. "I can't breathe."

I sighed a fake sigh. "Come on, Lover Boy. Will you get up for kisses?"

That perked him up real quick. He jumped up, almost too excited for his body. I laughed as he tackled me, grabbing my face and kissing me passionately.

A few minutes later, I pulled away, my face burning. "C'mon, Dix. We gotta sleep."

"Okay. I'll go."

I grabbed him and kissed him goodnight. "Night, Lover Boy. Sleep well."

He smiled. "Night, Teal Deal. Blue Shoe. Turquoise Porpois–"

"Your nicknames are terrible. Leave before I finish Sytra's threat."

"I'm leaving! I'm leaving," He put his hands up in surrender and stood up. He walked over to the door and opened it. "I love you, Feckter."

I smiled. "Wait, Dix." He turned around. "My full name is.. Grace Feckterhight."

He inhaled sharply. You only told a B.L.A.D.E. member your full name if you trusted them with your life. It could also be a trusting symbol of love.

"I'm.. Braz Dixtet."

I was shocked. No one had ever told me their full name before, except for Sytra.

"Well, goodnight.. Braz."

"Night, Grace." He smiled and closed the door.

"Wait!" I rushed to open the door again. "Dix, I–"

He was right outside the door, his face a few inches from mine. I stared into his eyes. "I love you too." I whispered.

He kissed the tip of my nose. "There we go. Now go sleep."

"Okay, Jazz Braz. Dix Fix. Dixtet Quarte–"

"SLEEP."

"Okay, Spazzy Brazzy." I smiled, and he shut the door on my face.