"I. Will. Take. Her. Home." Rome emphasized each word in a cold, emotionless tone.
A chill ran down my spine at the way he looked at me—as if warning me that if I went with Alpheus, he'd do something I wouldn't like.
"H-Hey now! Hold up, guys! H-haha..."
Dave suddenly stepped in, forcing an awkward laugh as he tried to ease the growing tension.
"Wouldn't it be better if we let Sylvia decide? She's the one being escorted home, after all."
"No, she's going with me—"
"I would like Sir Alpheus to take me home!" I blurted out, cutting Rome off before he could finish. I didn't even spare him a glance as I made my decision.
That single sentence made everyone in the group turn to Rome, silently waiting to see how he'd react to my clear rejection.
"Fine," Rome muttered through gritted teeth. "Go on your own, then. Go."
His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable—but the restrained fury in his voice was unmistakable. He clearly didn't like my answer at all.
------
I sat quietly, staring straight ahead at the road in front of Alpheus's car. He was focused on driving, but I could feel him glancing at me every so often—like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to start.
After a while, I noticed that we were no longer taking the usual route to my house. My eyes widened slightly as I turned to him.
"U-Um, Sir… this isn't the way to my house.." I said hesitantly.
His eyes widened a bit in realization, and he quickly adjusted the steering wheel to follow the direction I pointed out—completely opposite of the road he had been about to take.
"Sorry… I didn't mean to take you somewhere else," he said, a little embarrassed. "I just didn't know how to start a conversation. You seemed so deep in thought."
"Oh no, I should be the one apologizing, Sir," I said quickly, feeling a bit flustered. "I should've given you directions earlier. I was just too shy… especially since you went out of your way to take me home."
Now it made sense—why he kept glancing at me earlier. He didn't know how to talk to me, and I didn't know how to talk to him either.
"N-no, you don't have to call me sir, and please… drop the formality." Alpheus said, letting out a soft chuckle.
"You can talk to me like we're friends. After all, I've seen you plenty of times eating at the restaurant where you work."
"N-no, sir. You're one of our customers—I can't just treat you like we're friends!" I blurted out, my voice a bit louder than I intended. Embarrassed, I quickly covered my mouth as the words sank in.
He let out a soft chuckle in response.
"I-I mean… if it makes you uncomfortable, I understand," he said gently. "But… if it's alright with you, you can just call me Alpheus whenever we're outside your workplace."
"N-no, sir. That would be too embarrassing." I replied shyly, lowering my gaze. After all, I had no reason to meet him outside of work, and more importantly—I didn't want to form any sort of connection with him. He was Rome's friend, and that alone made things complicated.
"No, I insist, Sylvia." he said again, this time with a softness in his voice as he said my name.
I glanced at him, caught off guard by the gentle, almost affectionate way he spoke—but the moment our eyes met, I quickly looked away.
A long silence settled between us, but I could still feel his gaze flicking toward me now and then. It was subtle, hesitant, as if he wanted to ask me something but wasn't sure how.
"Ah… I mean, is it okay if I ask you something?" he asked, his tone hesitant as he glanced at me before quickly returning his focus to the road.
"Uhm, sure, Sir.." I replied, a bit unsure.
"It's kind of personal, but… I've been really curious. What's going on between you and Rome?" he asked, catching me completely off guard.
I wasn't expecting that question—especially not from him. I thought I'd already avoided it when his friends asked earlier.
He must've sensed my discomfort because he quickly added, "Ah—sorry. That was out of line. I didn't mean to pry. You don't have to answer… I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." he said, sounding genuinely apologetic and a bit embarrassed.
A long silence followed after that. It hung between us, likely because of his question—one I couldn't bring myself to answer. I didn't want anyone digging any deeper into that part of my life.
A few minutes later, we were nearing my neighborhood. I turned to glance at Alpheus, only to find him already looking at me. His gaze was focused, maybe even thoughtful—but when our eyes met, he quickly looked away, flustered.
"Ahm… Sir, I mean, A-Alpheus—we're almost there. Just keep going straight through that narrow path." I said, trying to change the subject while pointing toward the small alley that led to our neighborhood.
"Just pull over by the side, right there.." I added, gesturing toward a spot near the entrance of the alley. Our house was just a short walk from there.
"Okay, we're here" he said, then quickly stepped out of the car. To my surprise, he walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for me.
"Uhm… Thank you, Sir— I mean, A-Alpheus.." I said shyly as I stepped out of the car.
Alpheus took a moment to glance around, taking in the dim surroundings. The only source of light was a flickering street lamp that looked like it was about to burn out.
Despite the shadows, it didn't take much for him to realize we were in a squatter area. The smell of garbage lingered in the air, and broken-down houses lined the narrow street.
Even in the dark, the harsh reality of where I lived was hard to hide.
From the way Alpheus looked around, he must've thought the area wasn't safe—especially for someone unfamiliar with the place. It was the kind of neighborhood where, if you weren't known by the residents, something bad could easily happen to you.
Sylvia noticed how Alpheus's eyes carefully scanned the surroundings, quietly taking everything in. Embarrassed, she quickly looked away when his gaze briefly landed on her.
"Is your house close by? Or is it just around here?" he asked gently. "Come on, I'll walk you to your doorstep—just to make sure you get there safely."
There was no judgment in his voice, no hint of discomfort about where she lived—just pure sincerity.