Claude didn't say anything when the beam crashed down. He just grabbed me. His arm locked around my shoulder and pulled me to the ground, shielding me from the sudden wave of smoke and splinters.
The impact of his body against mine knocked the wind out of my lungs, but all I could think about—while ash fell like dirty snowflakes around us—was the way he said it earlier.
Our meeting wasn't the best, so I'd understand if he said it to me back then, before when we had fought monsters together, when we hadn't eaten countless meals in his Sanctum together, and when we hadn't shared our vulnerable sides to each other.
Now, after all that, he's telling me he doesn't like me.
I couldn't even bring myself to ask why and how that happened.
I couldn't think of any valid reason. But hey, who needs one to dislike a person? Maybe he really just doesn't like me. That's all.
The fire crackled behind us. Something hissed. But Claude moved first.
