'An A Rank and an E Rank walk into a bar... it sounds like the start of a shitty dad joke.'
Ethan suppressed a laugh as his eyes flicked between Mark and Elara, who were both tense and awkward.
"You can head downstairs and see the shithole you're going to be sharing with me, and you can wear something more comfortable if you want," he said casually, jerking a thumb toward the basement door.
Elara blinked, then looked down at herself.
The clothes she had picked out from the Association base were fine. They were clean, well-fitted, and probably expensive, yet she kept tugging at her sleeves and shifting.
She was clearly uncomfortable.
So when Ethan said that, she nodded quickly, a small but genuine look of appreciation crossing her face.
Before she could move, Mark stepped forward, raising a hand.
"It's a mess, and-"
"You don't mind, right?" Ethan cut him off smoothly, glancing at Elara.
She shook her head without hesitation.
