ARES’ POV
The city lights flickered past us as I drove through the shadowed streets of Los Angeles. The scent of concrete and late-night tacos hung in the air, mixed with a distant saltiness from the ocean breeze. The occasional palm tree whizzed by, casting fleeting shadows across the dashboard.
From the corner of my eye, I kept stealing glances at Noah.
His head was leaned out the window, his short hay fluttering with the night wind like he was some carefree teenager out on a midnight joyride. As if that wasn't enough, he stuck his hand out too, letting it slice through the air. The city was sleeping, but Noah was alive—too alive.
“You really want to go on that school trip?” I asked, my voice calm but firm, slicing through the heavy silence between us.
There was a pause. Then his vo
