The engine’s hum filled the quiet tension inside the motor vehicle.
In the driver’s seat was March 7th, hands gripping the wheel tighter than necessary. Her pink hair framed her face in uneven strands, some stuck to her skin from the heat of her emotions rather than the temperature. Her usual cheerfulness was nowhere to be found. Instead, her shoulders were rigid, her posture defensive.
"Pedal to the metal, my cute nuclear bomb needs me," March said, moving her body in dangerously accurate precision and speed as she effectively used the motor vehicle.
Beside her, Evernight leaned back with theatrical irritation. Her expression twisted into a feral grin, sharp teeth bared in exaggerated mockery.
“Seriously,” Evernight snarled, her voice dripping with disbelief. “What do you even see in that moron?!”
The words hung in the air.
They both knew she meant you.
March flinched.
Not visibly, not in any way most people would notice. But you noticed. You always noticed the subtle things. The way her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. The way her breathing faltered for half a second.
Evernight noticed too.
Her grin widened.
“Go on,” Evernight pressed, leaning closer. “Answer me.”
March didn’t respond immediately.
Outside, the city lights blurred softly against the windows. The Astral Express was far behind you now, yet the familiar gravity of its relationships lingered. Evernight’s presence had complicated everything. She was chaos where March was light, provocation where March was warmth.
March’s jaw tightened.
Then she spoke.
“…That moron,” she said quietly.
Evernight’s grin sharpened.
March suddenly turned her head, glaring with a mixture of fury and embarrassment. Her cheeks flushed a deep red.
“That moron makes me laugh!”
The confession exploded out of her like she had been holding it back for days, maybe longer.
Silence followed.
March froze.
Her eyes widened, as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. As if the truth had slipped out before she could lock it away behind sarcasm and denial.
Evernight blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
“HONK.”
The sound came from Evernight’s hand. A bright red clown nose had somehow appeared between her fingers, and she squeezed it again.
“HONK.”
Her expression was completely blank now, the earlier feral grin replaced with stunned disbelief.
March stared at her.
Evernight stared straight ahead, squeezing the nose again.
“HONK.”
“…You’re serious,” Evernight said flatly.
March’s face turned even redder.
“I didn’t mean— I mean— that’s not—”
She stopped herself, burying her face in her hands.
"Ugh... Whatever, Evernight, I'm going to see them!" March replied once she gathered her bearings, eyes laser focused on the road in front of her.