Not a date 'date'

Sky Sato hated himself right now.

Or... maybe that was a lie.

It was late, and they had to be back at the dorm before curfew. But no—Chris had suggested they grab dinner outside, and Sky, like the idiot he apparently was, had nodded without a second thought.

His brain had been muddled due to what had happened earlier.

The ride into town had been bumpy but strangely exhilarating. The tricycle they boarded zipped through the streets, weaving past cars and pedestrians. The evening breeze was crisp against their skin, carrying the mingling scents of roasted corn, fried dough, and the faint tang of exhaust fumes.

He glanced sideways at Chris, who was now walking beside him with an infuriatingly calm demeanor, as though the kiss they'd shared earlier had never happened. As though Sky wasn't still battling the aftermath of it—the taste of Chris lingering on his lips and the heat that refused to leave his skin.