A long day of work left you fatigued and ready to head home—and luckily for you, you had to do no driving.

Instead, Blade was driving. He was the only one who was able to do it at the time, hence not having your usual Kafka driving you. However, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Your eyes were glued to the window, watching the street lights that lit up the road whizzing by. It wasn’t surprising that it was so quiet—after all, you didn’t know each other all too well, and Blade was the least approachable looking person around.

However, you were surprised to catch his voice speaking over to you. His eyes remained glued to the road—one hand on the wheel, and one on his thigh.

“Did you have anything to eat?” He said, voice deep and rough. “There’s a place down the road to stop at.”