Of course, he did provoke Myles, but...
This was far more intimidating than Blake had anticipated.
’Huh... I hope I digested everything. If I throw up on Myles, I’m pretty sure my favorability isn’t going to improve...’
They finally made their way to their seats after paying, naturally sitting side by side.
Myles, as always, appeared completely unbothered.
Their lap bars were checked, locked securely, and the ride was ready to begin.
At first, the coaster eased along the track, rolling slowly around gentle curves. But the calm was short-lived. The track started its gradual climb. The height ant the first real drop was imminent.
"I swear, if he doesn’t smile at while I’m screaming that would an my efforts still aren’t enough. Who knows, maybe he has so kind of masochist thrill and will laugh at his fear..."
Okay, he was definitely pushing it with his imagination.
Blake fidgeted nervously and stole a glance at Myles.
"Do you know the best way to feel less anxious?" he asked.
Myles turned his head toward him, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
"Holding—"
But the words barely left Blake’s mouth before it was too late.
"Hands...!"
Now they were plunging downward.
The air pressure pressed against Blake with a force he couldn’t resist. His arms were pinned by the harness, and surprisingly, he didn’t feel the urge to scream.
It was quite strange.
A faint dizziness swept over him, accompanied by a sense of déjà vu, as if he were recalling sothing distant and forgotten.
He thought, for a fraction of a second, about death, had he experienced it before transmigrating?
Was this so echo of that? It was disconcerting, but it wasn’t fear that gripped him, rather, it was an unsettling emptiness, a sensation that sothing vital was missing.
Then, Myles’ hand grabbed his, as they continued their descent.
Blake’s eyes widened in surprise. He wanted to turn his head toward him but couldn’t because of the relentless pressure.
’Hahaha, isn’t he always the one who wants to appear ordinary? All of the things he does in public are for that goal, only...’
Yet, here he was, doing exactly what could make people question his existence slightly more, showing an extre control and strength.
Blake couldn’t help but smile, and the strange, eerie feeling disappeared.
The plunge ended abruptly. The safety harnesses lifted, releasing them from the oppressive grip.
Myles went down the exit ramp first, and Blake followed.
"Ugh..."
He felt like his feet weren’t touching the ground, but a cloud.
Of course, he stumbled ahead and, coincidentally, Myles was right in front of him to play catch.
"Hey, hey," Blake murmured, pressing lightly against Myles’ chest. "Were you scared at all? Even a little?"
Myles let out a light breath. "It wasn’t boring," he replied. "But you looked quite frightened."
Blake laughed, shaking his head and steadying himself. Despite the lingering dizziness, the tension in his chest eased.
He followed Myles down the path, step by step, ready for whatever ca next.
Now it was ti for lunch.
’As they say, ti flies when you’re having fun... but this dude still did not laugh, so, is he actually having fun?!’
Still, Blake’s stomach interrupted his worries, reminding him it had been a while since breakfast.
Without much expectation of a real answer, he asked, "Do you prefer seafood or at?"
"Seafood."
Blake froze.
That was unexpected.
The thing was, Blake dislikes most kinds of fish, maybe even all of them, but this was the first ti Myles had expressed a clear preference.
It was an important milestone, so he couldn’t simply refuse.
They found a bench nearby and sat. Blake quickly pulled out his phone, searching for a restaurant that specialized in fish dishes.
’This is too expensive... this one only sells sushi... this one looks shady...’
Finally, he found one that was clean, not too expensive, and highly rated.
"This place looks perfect," he said.
Myles nodded. "Okay."
They went there. The small restaurant was bustling but not overwhelmingly so. Luckily, their table was free.
They sat down.
Blake, wanting to avoid any awkward misstep, asked, "Which fish has the least bones?"
Myles’ expression changed instantly. The cool composure he usually wore gave way to sothing icy, almost unreadable.
Blake’s brow furrowed in concern.
’Did I offend him? Was my question inappropriate, a violation of Myles’ tastes or sothing? Crap. Didn’t think food would anger him, out of all things!’
Before he could speak, a hand tapped lightly on his shoulder.
"I’m here now to finally keep you company,"
Blake flinche, turning his head.
"? What the? Didn’t I tell you no third wheelers allowed? Piss off!"
Clearly, Zlatan wasn’t all that interested in respecting their wishes.
’Ah, wait, so that’s why Myles got all annoyed all of a sudden. Phew, that’s a relief.’
Myles’ eyes flicked toward Zlatan briefly but didn’t betray any irritation. He returned to his usual calm self.
"Um, Myles?"
Blake leaned in slightly, now his voice down to a whisper.
Myles also leaned a little closer.
"How do we make him go away?"
"I don’t know."
"Hah, I can hear you, you know that, right?"
Irritated, Blake frowned.
It was genuinely distressing. He had no ti to lose on this weirdo, at least, for now.
’Out of all the days we had to run into him, why this one? Absolutely ridiculous.’
Still, Zlatan took a chair and sat down.
Blake glanced at Myles again, of course, he didn’t look happy in the slightest.
Which sohow made Blake even more annoyed.
"Hey, listen here, you’re being too rude right now."
Zlatan chuckled, brushing his hair back.
"Am I? I apologize if it seems that way to you."
"No, it’s not about how I’m seeing it right now, it’s just how you’re being."
Blake let out a heavy sigh. He wasn’t about to get gaslighted or anything, but he was already tired.
His focus should go on Myles and keeping him in a sowhat decent mood.
"Myles, I was asking, which fish has the least bones?"
Myles’ gaze turned to him again, losing so amount of annoyent.
"Shark. But that’s expensive. So go for salmon."
"Okay, I’ll listen to your advice then."
Blake leaned back slightly, sighing.
’Why is this crazy fuck staring so much?’
Maybe it didn’t really help that he could feel the adrenaline from the ride.
Myles was not pleased, Zlatan was definitely amused, and Blake was sowhere between exhaustion, annoyent and relief.
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