Adam knew he was egotistical, selfish, greedy, gluttonous, yadda yadda. He didn’t care. He was himself and himself was perfect and he knew it. He was a prodigy at guitar. All those idiots telling him to turn it off while covering their ears clearly did not know good music. The only person who actually knew good music was Lute. He loved to play for her since she’d always listen and tell him, with a blank face, how amazing it was. At first he thought she was mocking her, but then learned that’s who she was. Seriously, the chick hadn’t laughed or so much as genuinely smiled in any way that wasn’t mocking or sarcastic the entire time he’s known her.

But, with that all aside, she was a good friend to have. He wasn’t usually, if ever, grateful for anything, but Lute was an exception.

They were both currently hanging at his cool place. He had his mask set on his nightstand, sitting crisscross as he plucked random strings on his guitar that rest in his lap, trying to come up with a new, sick tune. Lute was sitting up straight by the foot of his bed, her mask set by his. Now he could see that she was paying attention. He groaned, briskly but gently throwing the guitar onto the other side of his giant bed.

“This is hard! Lute, comfort me!”

He forced her to accept his head in her lap, looking up at her as she instinctively started to play with his hair. He taught the woman to do that. In fact, he taught her to do a lot of things. Cooking, cleaning, obviously just everything every woman should be doing, of course.

“Thanks, Lute. You’re the second best. After me, of course.”

He grinned, definitely smug and proud of himself.