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──── ' the working class '──── [CH. XXI] ✦ ˚
" i think you ought to be careful about what you say, zero. it could get you into trouble, yeah?"
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FIVE AND OPHIRA HAVE FALLEN INTO A STEADY, COMFORTABLE WORKING SILENCE. The boy types away upon the type-writer, the noises of metal clicking a soother to the girl who depicts various notes on a throwaway notepad.
"That's clever. Why didn't I think of this before?"
The low musterings of Five's voice echoes out from over Ophira's shoulder. They offer a backward glance, gaze fallen upon the boy who surveys their neatly written letters with visible consideration. His lips distantly perk upwards, for a moment, nevertheless, before he returns to his broody self.
Ophira can't help it, their mouth twisting into a similar, hushed expression. Their shoulders brush.
A sickeningly cheery quip disturbs their peace.
"Hiya, you two! How's it going?" Dot beams.
"I must have utter silence to complete this task."
Gone is his prior established softness. His brow etches together, wrinkling in irritation. Five doesn't even glance Dot's way, focused solely on the parchment he's currently rolling up between his fingers.
