Did he like someone?
Ever since Roland began having those dreams, something had changed.
How he felt about Lyric had changed.
“No?” Lyric asked as he turned around to look at him. “And don’t ash in that cup.”
“Why does it sound like you’re asking me,” he hissed. “And I have nowhere else to ash.”
Lyric scowled as he turned around and put his hands on his hips. “Please, enlighten me, why do you care?”
“I don’t,” he lied.
“Then, leave it. Who I like doesn’t matter.”
Roland was going to say it did matter, but Fern walked in, and Roland locked eyes with him as he exhaled a large puff of smoke.
“He’s asthmatic,” he deadpanned, walking over to Lyric. He moved away from the bag sitting on his desk and walked over to him, sitting beside him on the bed, taking his free hand and placing it
