"What? What's wrong? Don't tell me you're still mad at me when I should actually be the one pissed at you," Zane says, voice edged with disbelief as he pushes himself upright.
He'd been leaning comfortably against Axel just moments ago, but now there's a visible tension in the way he straightens up.
It's not enough to seem threatening, but the shift doesn't go unnoticed.
The chauffeur in the front glances into the rearview mirror again, clearly picking up on the tension thickening behind him.
"Mad at you?" Axel finally says chuckling nervously, he lifts his gaze slowly to meet Zane's. His voice is flat, calm, almost empty. "That could never happen."
There's no emotion in the words, just a dull tiredness. One that doesn't match the chaos in his head.
He's barely holding everything in. There's too much he's thinking.
Zane's eyes narrow, tone sharpening as he presses, "Then why did you run?"
He flicks a hand out in frustration, fingers twitching, clearly restless.
