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——"Yo, man, how's it going?" Ace asked, casually sauntering into Trey's room. "How are you feeling, Trey?" Deuce calmly asked. "Are you okay?!" I frantically exclaimed, summoning checking his forehead for a fever in panic.
Trey gently took my hand and held it for a brief moment. "I'm not sick, Y/N." He chuckled, a small blush on his face. "You better not be." I frowned, furrowing my eyebrows in concern.
"We came all this way just to see your sorry face. It's cool—don't get up." Grim sighed. "Well, if it isn't Hunting Season! And Grim and Y/N too! You're rolling deep today." Cater smiled, maneuvering me away from Trey and facing him.
"Hey, Cater... I'm lost. Whaddaya mean by "Hunting Season"?" Ace asked, narrowing his eyes slightly at the ginger. Oh?
"I mean it's you guys! You're Ace, he's Deuce—that's what you call an Ace Deuce in poker!" Cater explained, his eyebrow slightly twitching. The tension in this room was RISING. Luckily, Deuce chimed in.
"Don't give us a couple nickname!" He whined, a hard blush coating his face. He can be so adorable sometimes. "Riiight... Anyway, how d'you feel, Trey? And how'd you get hurt?" Ace asked, shifting the attention back to the man of the hour.
"Slipped on the stairs. I couldn't catch myself, and my ankle got all messed up. I'll be on crutches for a while." Trey sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "Yikes. That sounds pretty bad!" Deuce winced. "Yep. Looks like I'll be warming the bench at the Spelldrive tournament this year." Trey sighed.
"Myah... I was hopin' your injury would be small enough for me to justify keepin' this, but... Here. I brought ya a get-well can of tuna. Feel better, specs." Grim roughly handed Trey a can of tuna, looking away with a scoff. "Heh. Thanks." Trey lightly chuckled.
"Ugh, hashtag #fail! Now that we've lost a power player, we have to redo our team roster!" Cater whined, leaning against my shoulder. I grimaced, slightly. I wasn't one for "touch".
"Wait, what?!" "Hunting Season" exclaimed. "Why are there so many people in here? Trey is supposed to be resting!" Riddle shrieked, practically kicking down the door.
"Myah! It's Ragin' Riddle!" Grim panicked, hiding away behind my legs. Riddle then turned to him, grey eyes laced with slight annoyance. "I am not "raging." I will be perfectly pleasant if you obey the rules!" He fumed, before then turning to Trey. "How are you doing, Trey? Can I bring you anything to eat or drink?" He asked, rather gently for someone like him.
"I told you, Riddle: you don't need to fuss over me like this." Trey gave Riddle a small smile. He didn't shun me awa—Oh. OOOHHH. Trey you sly, sly, spectacle-wearing dog.
"But it's my fault that you got hurt." Riddle sighed. "What? He didn't tell us that part!" Ace exclaimed. "I needed to talk to him, about..personal matters," Riddle spared a glance at me, something interesting behind his eyes, and a powder like coating of rose on his cheeks. He instantly looked at the rest of the group. "So I went to the junior classroom at lunch. And then..."
