A far-off voice wakes Desmond from his unusually deep sleep. Being a sheep, he's not accustomed to having a good night's rest, but as soon as his eyes open, he feels a sensation another animal might call… refreshing?

The room he's in is dark, but he immediately recognizes it as foreign. Despite being awake, it takes him several seconds to remember why he is in this unfamiliar room, and who exactly is speaking.

"Wake up already." The voice, which he now recognizes as Eloise's, commands. A hand grabs one of his horns, rattling it and the ram's nerves.

"I'm up, I'm up…" He waves the hand off. He steadily sits up in the bed; the blanket that was draping him slides off his chest and pools onto his lap, allowing the room temperature to hit his body and send a chill down his spine (Eloise keeps the air conditioner on all summer). He also notices that the cooled air brushes against areas he normally keeps covered. That is when he realizes he's completely exposed from last night.

While the male processes whatever jumble of emotions he may have, his uninterested partner steps away to draw her heavy black curtains, unleashing the bright morning sunlight into her studio dorm. After flinching from the sudden visual assault, the ram regains enough vision to take a better look at her: already fully dressed, fur dewey with shower water, face chiseled with the usual severity. In turn, she stares at him.

"You're still half-asleep." She sighs. "Come on, get dressed. Don't make me late for my internship."

Desmond fumbles out of bed, assuming it's too awkward to say 'good morning' now. He glances at her bedside clock that displays '6:30AM' in merciless red lettering.

"It's early." He observes, somewhat dumbly.

"I have morning shift." Eloise says, assuming that's enough of an explanation. "Shower if you want, or just get dressed. I'll make breakfast. Do you eat in the morning?"

"Uh… yeah. Thanks." The ram glances at the bathroom to his left. "I guess I'll take a shower then."

"Be quick."

He timidly retreats into in the hare's unbelievably clean bathroom, unsure of whether to keep the door open or closed but ultimately resorting to leaving a sliver open. After fiddling around with the shower mechanism, he manages to get the water running (why there isn't a standardized shower faucet to avoid such confusion is beyond him).

For some reason, he feels absurd. Doing something as normal as taking a morning shower in someone else's house. The water feels different from the one that pours from his shower head, the body wash smells of someone else and designed for another type of fur, even his reflection in the mirror blurred by steam looks to be only a Desmond look-alike. Within the mist of his shower, Desmond might as well be meditating. Despite the whirlwind of events that have transpired in the past twenty four hours, his mind is blank. The only output his brain gives is the orders to scrub and rinse.

After a mysterious amount of time— he doesn't seem to recall the very concept of time— Desmond emerges from the bathroom, showered, blowdried and dressed. He wears the button-up and jeans from yesterday for obvious reasons, but he dislikes the sensation on his body; the clothes feel used and impure compared to his unsullied self.

In the kitchen area of the dorm, Eloise finishes the final touches of their meals just as he settles into the eating area: a small table with a thin black chair on either side parallel to the kitchen counters. She sets a bowl of chopped fruits drizzled in honey down in front of him before seating herself across him with an identical plate.

"Thanks, it looks really good." Desmond says waiting for her to take the first bite, a herbie show of politeness.

"I have this every day. I try not to eat anything that isn't a fruit or vegetable."

"I'd say you eat like a rabbit, but…"

"What do you normally eat for breakfast?"

Desmond tilts his head, slightly embarrassed. "I dunno… cereal?"

Eloise narrows her eyes. "The bran kind?"

"The sugary kind."

"That'll rot your teeth."

The ram only shoves another spoonful of strawberries into his mouth.

This… is a little awkward.

What exactly do you talk about after sex? Should he even mention it? Eloise isn't acknowledging it at all. Did he maybe dream it all up somehow? No, that can't be. He definitely couldn't dream up some of the things she did.

"So… uh." The sounds escape his throat before he can contain them. "A-about last night… did you… enjoy it?"

Kill me.

"Sure." She nods. "It was fun."

…Sure?

"I read a study that stated children who grew up eating cereals with high sugar content for breakfast were twice as likely to develop type two diabetes." The hare explains, the previous subject abandoned. "Let's hope your pancreas holds out."

Desmond gapes at her in utter disbelief.

"I don't understand."

"Type two diabetes is when the body develops an insulin resistance, as opposed to type one—"

"Not that!" He bleats. "How are you acting so casual about this?!"

The female eyes him skeptically. "About last night? What are you so worked up about?"

"We—!" The ram goes red in the face. "For the first time! It's a big deal!"

"It's not like either of us were virgins."

"That's not the point! It's intimate! You can't just act like it didn't happen!"

Eloise looks genuinely bothered. "It's just sex, Desmond."

Before the sheep can retaliate, his phone interrupts him by shaking the table. Begrudgingly, he steals a glance at the notification, and so does the hare. Both of them forget what they were talking about. It's from Brian.

"hiii desmond hope ur vacations been nice so far （っ＾▿＾）

so basically me and hafsa were talking about doing a double date and I wanted to invite you and eloise for a triple date! we were thinking of next week, pls let me know when ur free (ps I will not take no for an answer so don't bother luv u)

(っ◔◡◔)っ ❤"

Desmond and Eloise slowly lift their heads up to look at each other.

The female is the first to break the silence.

"Are we going?"

"I guess."

Solomon flicks his wrist to check his watch. With a hum, he confirms to himself that they are early before absentmindedly smoothing out his whiskers. His lovely serval date pulls his arm closer, petting at his biceps with a moody sigh. "I'm hungry…"

He smiles cooly. "You're petulant when your stomach is empty."

"And touchy." She adds, reaching up to swat the glossy sprig of fur on the tip of his triangular ear.

The male gingerly scoops her wandering hands, and with a kiss, returns them to the sides of her torso. "Patience. They'll be here soon."

"I can't help it. It smells so nice."

That it does. The feline couple loiters outside of a chic Korean-style barbecue restaurant, famous in their city for its popularity with the youths. Hafsa had suggested the rather trendy location for a triple date; in all of her years of expertise, she's found a bustling eatery is the best for multi-person meals such as this, even if it is a little pricier. Luckily for them, the night is warm and eager to spread the spice of summer, so they have no trouble waiting for their friends. The overhead kitchen vent releasing the mouthwatering perfume of grilled veggies and eggs, however, proves a test to Hafsa's restraint.

Her patience is soon rewarded when she recognizes a friendly face emerge from the passing crowd. Brian trots up to hug her, leaving both of their boyfriends to awkwardly exchange greetings.

When Brian hops off of the serval, she's eager to approach Humbert too. "So you're the famous Humbert!"

"Sorry, I don't give autographs." He jokes, extending a hand. "Nice to see you again, Hafsa."

She accepts it with a beaming smile. "I hope you managed to clean that blood off your nice pleather seats."

"Don't worry about it. It was a good excuse to go to the car wash. Plus, they fear me now so I get great discounts."

Solomon clears his throat. "Shall we take this riveting conversation inside?"

The rock dove looks around. "Shouldn't we wait for Desmond?"

"We'll be blocking off the sidewalk. Just let them know we'll be inside."

With the matter decided, they claim their reserved table inside of the restaurant, an impressively sized booth complete with a built-in grill table.

"It's nice to finally get out of that stuffy office, eh?" Brian chirps.

"For sure," The serval agrees. "I swear, I'm gonna grow grey fur over student council."

Her boyfriend pours himself a glass of water. "This year's been a challenge. Next semester could bring anything."

"Ugh, I just want this whole drama to be over." The treasurer huffs. "I miss hanging out with Desmond and Toma in school."

"You called?"

As if on cue, Desmond and his long-eared companion turn the corner, revealing themselves. They offer small bows of apologies while the group shuffles around the padded seats to make room for the newly arrived couple.

"Sorry for the delay, traffic was rough." The piebald sheep scans the table, his eyes lingering a millisecond long on Hafsa before Brian lunges from across the table to give a highly impractical face-hug.

"Careful, Bri, you're gonna burn yourself on the grill." Humbert warns.

"Oh, but I missed you so much!" The pigeon scrunches up his face, now tiny on his feathered head. "We never talk anymore!"

"CHAMP's been keeping me busy," Desmond explains sheepishly. "I assume for you, too."

"Can't be helped for now, I'm afraid." Solomon lowers his eyes. "How have things been?"

The ram blows air out of his mouth in an exasperated raspberry. "Trying. As far as I can tell, we've done a good job to make DAVID look stupid. It's a shitty situation, but I've met a lot of nice people. I think Toma likes the company too, despite everything."

Hafsa's heart nearly breaks thinking of Toma. What could he be doing now? Did he stay back at the academy? He'd probably have to.

"But enough of that," Solomon interrupts. "The last thing we should talk about is Noah's Arc. Eloise, how have you been?"

"First semester has been manageable." She responds tersely. "However, I work with some incredibly incompetent animals in my summer internship."

"Oooh, an internship already?" Brian gasps. "Are you doing surgeries?"

"For now, we're only observing." The hare explains. "Many necropsies."

"Careful, Desmond. She might start using you as a test subject." Humbert teases.

"Believe me, she already does."

A Mandarin duck waiter waddles up to the group, ready to take their order. He smiles at them, but his expression soon sours when he sees the bird couple sitting particularly close to each other. On instinct, Brian avoids his gaze, fidgeting shamefully under the duck's glare.

Humbert just scowls right back at the waiter. "Can I he—"

The penguin can't even finish his sentence before the duck blanches. Four pairs of volcanically menacing eyes glower at him, causing his feather to puff up in terror. The other two couples all seem to convey one message in their scowls:

You got a problem?

With that, the waiter snaps into an uncomfortably high pitched greeting, his grin wide enough to break his jaw. He very, very enthusiastically take their orders before practically skipping away.

"So, where were we?" Desmond coughs.

The only response he gets is the sudden uproarious laughter from Humbert, so gleeful that delighted tears leak from the corner of his eyes. "Hahaha! I-I've never s-seen a bird closer to sp-spontaneous combustion! Wooohoo hoo!"

The Humboldt's guffawing unleashes a tidal wave of hysterics from all animals. Not even Eloise can avoid sniggering along.

"Wow…" Hafsa sniffles, her voice trembling with emotion. "That's straight out of a movie…"

"It was so romantic." Humbert boasts. "What little chick doesn't grow up dreaming of someone declaring their love to them in the middle of FlockCon?"

"I-I'm just glad my parents are accepting." Brian picks at his nails timidly. "Actually, they're too accepting. They keep pestering me to bring Humbert home every week."

"I'm coming for that son-in-law inheritance, baby!" His boyfriend licks his beak.

"The only thing you're inheriting is the toy drum you bought May. She won't stop playing it when I'm there."

"Gotta teach 'em young, Bri."

"H-here you are!" The Mandarin duck, still just as jumpy from before, returns and sets their bill on the desk, alongside a whopping handful of plastic-wrapped candies. "Thank you for dining here!"

"Ah, already?" Hafsa mopes. "Time's passing by too quickly!"

Their server sets individual bills for each couple to decide how they'll pay. Eloise slides the thin piece of paper to Desmond, not even bothering to look at the price.

"It's the male's job to pay for food." She says simply. Desmond had long since given up fighting her on this.

"I couldn't agree more." Solomons smiles, snatching their receipt from Hafsa's hands.

"Hey!" She cries.

"Resistance is futile."

"Where does that leave us?" Humbert asks his partner.

"I guess we leave an 100% tip."

The booth laughs before settling into a comfortable silence, and then that silence becomes cold and melancholic, knowing it will be the last of the evening.

"Do we really need to end it here?" Desmond blurts, much to everyone's astonishment. He's taken aback by their reactions, suddenly flustered. "Wh-what? I'm just saying it's not like we need to split up yet."

Admittedly, he surprises even himself with how much he'd enjoyed the evening. Perhaps because it's been long, too long, far too long, since last spending time with the student council, but he never realized how much he had missed precisely this. Even his greatest point of contention, Hafsa, no longer felt so frightening. Both of them had moved on to different people. And now that any remains tension has dissipated, the former Vice President and his former colleagues managed to restore the most important part of their relationship: friendship.

Brian suddenly cries out, as if struck by lightning. "I know just the thing to keep the ball rolling!"

"You better not suggest drinking." Eloise warns.

"N-no, of course not!" The bird yelps. "Something even better than that! And close by, too!"

Solomon raises brow. "And what would that be?"

That would be the stout, windowless cement-colored building they arrive at fifteen minutes later. Purposefully torn fliers plaster the surface of the walls, some faded and vague illustration of a lock and key printed onto them. A heavy metal door seals the edifice, crowned by a flickering neon sign that reads "BEARTRAP ESCAPE ROOM".

"An… escape room?" Solomon repeats with some distaste.

"I've always wanted to try one of these!" His pigeon friend's beady eyes shiver with excitement. "This is the perfect opportunity!"

"I mean… I never tried them either." Hafsa tries to help.

"I've never tried it either, but that doesn't mean we should." Eloise grimaces. "These places are so tacky."

"Aw, please, vice Pres? Pwetty please?" The rock dove bats nonexistent eyelashes.

Before the hare could protest again, Desmond leans in closer to whisper something in her ear.

"You don't like this kind of stuff, right? Don't force yourself."

Eloise mouth gapes for a second, seemingly caught off guard. Her eyes betray a sincere surprise, before softening for another second. Two seconds are all it takes for her to regain composure and returning her attention to the pigeon.

"Your infantilizing babyspeak is giving me a migraine." Despite her harsh words, she begins heading towards the escape room's entrance, much to the delight of the feathered couple. Without much say in the matter, the mammals trudge behind them.

The indoor reception is tight and dimly lit, adding to the supposed air of danger these types of places seem to be obsessed with.

"Welcome to the Beartrap Escape Room," A black-footed ferret speaks up from behind the desk in a somber tone. "Will you be risking it all with us tonight?"

Despite the ferret's interesting phrasing, they agree to sign up for a cheaper room (split evenly amongst themselves, the cost isn't so devastating).

"What's great about this room is that it is designed to be solved by six people." Their chaperone explains. "It's only an hour long experience, but it's one of our most well-designed puzzles. Do you dare?"

They dare, and after a long lecture on the many specific rules they must abide by, including the emergency stop button on the wall and the confiscation of their smartphones, they are escorted by the ferret to a black hallway, where at the very end lies a door labelled "The Six-Toothed Trap".

Once inside, the chaperone gathers the other animals close and puffs himself up, looking as intimidating as a black-footed ferret can be. "A mad poacher's on the loose, and you've fallen into this trap. He's out hunting more victims for now, but if you don't find a way out of his lair in exactly sixty minutes, you'll be spending the rest of your days in the black market!"

He creeps out of the room, cackling maliciously, and the locks snap shut with a thundering echo. Before long, the group hear the ferret's voice boom from an overhead speaker.

"I'll be listening and monitoring you all in case you need a hint or if you're doing something wrong. Good luck, prey!"

And just like that, the speakers click, and the pack of six are left staring at each other.

"So do we just.. look around?" Desmond asks.

"I guess." Humbert starts heading towards one of the cluttered counters of the fake lair. The others follow his lead and begin to spread out.

Within a minute or two, all of them discover a strange detail: what they initially thought was one room turns out to be a combination of three, separated by a short, thin passage, together forming the shape of a triangle. While none of the rooms themselves are particularly large, the setup makes for a rather odd flow of investigation. Each couple sticks close to each other, muttering observations or questions to each other, stopping to inspect a certain vial or particular cupboard. After a minute or two, they reconvene to discuss potential findings.

"It's likely the shape of the layout is important for this puzzle." Solomon notes.

"Yes, and it seems each room handles a particular step in the poaching process." Eloise adds. "It can tell a linear story. Perhaps there could be clues on how to escape based off of a previous attempt."

With these words, the lights go out with a start, causing all animals to jump in fear. The ferret had warned them of sudden scares and flashing lights, but jumpscares cannot be avoided even if one expects them. The rooms are enclosed in thick concrete, so absolutely no outside light leaks into their surroundings. All they can do is rely on their ears; easier feats for servals and hares.

"H-hey, don't run off."

"Ow, who stepped on my foot?"

"Watch it!"

"Everyone, settle down! Let's look for a light switch."

"Birdie, where'd you go?"

"Over here!"

Suddenly, they hear a loud clatter. The lights snap back on, and every animal's eyes widen in realization: the way to the passages that connected the rooms together had been sealed shut. Now, all three rooms are completely sealed off from each other.

Hafsa's eyes are still narrowed, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness, and she freezes in place.

"Damn!"

A voice behind her curses, and she recognizes it to be Desmond.

Only Desmond.

They stare at each other for one panicked second, before whipping their heads towards one of the closed off exits in mutual desperation.

"Solomon!" Hafsa shouts into the door. "Solomon! Brian!"

Desmond tries the other shut passage. "Eloise! Can you hear us?!"

No responses from either side, not even one Hafsa could eke out with her satellite dish of an ear pressed against the hard surface.

"It's no good. The entrances must be sealed off from both sides. These walls are totally soundproof."

"What kind of budget do escape rooms have these days?!" Desmond demands, incredulous.

"It's actually a pretty clever gimmick." The cat admits. "Maybe this will be fun."

"Oh?" Desmond tilts his head, trying to act as nonchalant as possible while vaguely inspecting some prop rifles on the wall. "I figured you'd be all over this kind of thing."

"Why oh why did that feel like an insult?"

The ram forces back a smirk.

"Figures we'd end up stuck together."

His words strike her with how direct they are. He was always more straight to the point than she; a trait that both impressed and irked her.

"How do you mean?" She asks, quietly and innocently as she scrutinizes a suspicious-looking mail slot on the wall.

"Forget it." He mumbles. The serval can practically hear the words "Sherlock" and "Watson" on his lips.

Something shoots out from the mysterious mail slot, scaring the daylights out of Hafsa in the process. Fittingly, it's a slip of paper. On it, in small but incredibly neat handwriting is:

"This is Eloise and Humbert. Stuck in the chemistry lab room. State who you are, what room you are in, and significant details."

So that explains it. Writing notes is the only way of communicating to other rooms. Looking at the build of the mailbox, it doesn't look like they can speak into it properly, so screaming out of that is not an option.

"Well, it's Eloise, all right." Desmond confirms. "Only she could make written text feel so dry."

"She's an interesting girl." Hafsa says simply.

"Well, let's write back to her."

As expected, they found a stack of paper and working pens nearby and Hafsa got to work on their reply note (she insists on writing due to her prettier caligraphy).

Once inserted into the mail slot, they decide to write a similar note to the other door, where Solomon and Brian must be. Once they start getting replies back, they fall into a sort of routine, taking turns writing, looking around, reading, and so on. It really isn't that different to how they worked in student council back in their day.

"So each piece of the key is in a different room, huh…?" Hafsa concludes after around thirty minutes work.

"Seems it." The ram, now under a busted up bed looking for anything potentially hidden under the mattress.

Hafsa chuckles. "This is a pretty cool puzzle. I'm glad Brian talked us into this."

"Yeah, me too. I don't work too well if I'm being timed, though."

"Believe me, I know. I had enough late submissions from you to fill an entire folder back in your VP days."

"Heh." Desmond stays put under the bed, simply staring up at the artificially-stained mattress. "It's nice talking to you again. You know, as a friend."

Hafsa also stands in place, unmoving. "Yeah. It's been too long."

For some reason, the sheep suddenly feels agitated. "Th-things have been a little awkward since… yeah. But now that we're both past that, it's nice to just talk without the… uh…"

"Tension."

"Tension, yeah."

Lord have mercy.

"You're right." After several beats, the feline speaks up a little too suddenly. "You're right. We can just relax."

She says that very confidently, even tricking both of them into believing it's true. The so-called tension melts away, and the two continue their investigations in a style much more befitting of Sherlock and Watson.

"Oh, you have no idea how much I wanted to punch his shit in right there!" Hafsa cackles, imitating an imaginary fistfight. "When he called me a meat-eater right to my face like that!"

"Those DAVID assholes are something else." Desmond agrees. "The shit I heard them say during those ridiculous little marches…"

"I swear, if I wasn't student council president…" The serval growls mockingly. "Oh, I'd be locked up right there with Toma for some of the stuff I'd do!"

The ram snorts. "Hell, I'd pay to see you and Ezekiel alone in a room with a steel chair."

"Place your bets now, folks."

Another note slips out of the Solomon-and-Brian door as they're laughing. Hafsa picks it up and goes to read it aloud.

"'Found our key piece, sent to EH.' That must mean Eloise and Humbert. 'The passcode of your safe is 3860. PS. Solomon misses Hafsa very much.'"

The female trails off while reading the last sentence, her face reddening.

"How cute." Desmond deadpans.

"He's sweet…" She mumbles bashfully, quick to distract herself by approaching their locked safe and typing in the passcode. "He's surprinsingly clingy sometimes. Is Eloise like that?"

Desmond thinks back to last week. "Sometimes."

"How are things with her?" The serval's overly blasé tone betrays a hint of curiosity.

"Good," The sheep replies. "She's a very direct person. I like that in a female. Very smart, for better or worse."

Hafsa simply nods along, prodding for more details.

"It's just…" His voice weakens.

"Just?"

"No, never mind, I shouldn't say."

"Come on. Say it. I won't judge."

"Nah, it's a little…"

"Saaay it!"

The ram scoffs. "You really are nosy."

"Can't help it."

Desmond faces the wall, unsure of how to phrase it. "It's just… I was wondering… do females… uh… not care a lot… about, uh… sex?"

Although he can't see her face, a silence passes between them that makes him assume the worst.

"Not care, like… how?" She replies cautiously.

"Like… not think it's a big deal."

"I think… most females think it's a big deal."

"Yeah, right? It's normal to want to like… act more coupley?"

"Y-yeah, that's normal, I think. Does she…?"

"I'm sure it's because she's older." Desmond bleats, eager to shut the conversation down. "Forget it."

A blaring voice from above startles both of them.

"You only have ten minutes left… time is running out, prey. The poacher will be back soon."

The lights flicker ominously once more, and the speakers clamor with cartoonishly over-the-top sound effects that sound like they belong in a haunted house rather than an escape room. Once the cacophony settles, Hafsa lets out a cackle.

"So spooky. We better hurry up."

"Y-yeah."

The serval's brows furrow, sensing his nervousness. Could the jumpscare actually have frightened him? The thought makes her smile.

"Actually, maybe we should just wait out the clock. I'm sure we could beat the poacher in a fight."

Desmond lets out an amused wheeze. "You don't say?"

"We've dealt with much worse. We've got the ram fighting captain here, after all. And the… what was it you called me that one time? It had a great ring to it."

"The… The Slayer of Sheep, you mean?"

"Yeah!" She doubles over in another fit of laughter. "Yeah, that! What idiot would dare challenge us?"

Her declaration of power is cut short by a gasp. Eagerly, she reaches deeper into the safe and pulls out what looks like the handle of a key. "This must be our piece!" She exclaims, wiggling the metal snap in front of the male's face.

"Awesome!" Instinctually, Desmond raises a hand, which she gives a spirited high five to.

For a moment, nobody moves. Hafsa and Desmond just look at each other, radiant open-mouthed grins on their faces beaming with pride, their hands still tingling from the impact. The more they look into each other's eyes, one pair a vibrant caramel and the other a sharp black, until their smiles fade and their hands recover. It's only a moment.

Their hearts sink. Both of them realize nothing has changed at all.

The lights suddenly become intense, and the walls that blocked access to the other rooms violently slide open.

"Wha—" Hafsa stammers, confused. She looks into one of the now opened rooms, where Brian and Solomon look at each other in similar bewilderment.

"We didn't solve the puzzle yet!" Brian exclaims to the omnipresent ferret.

"One of you hit the emergency stop button." The ferret's voice explains. "Make sure she's okay, I'll be there in a second."

It takes the group of friends an instant to realize the one who pressed the button was Eloise. Humbert has an arm around her shoulders, which judging by the twitching of her whiskers, she does not enjoy at all.

Desmond is the first to rush up to her.

"Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?" He asks in a hushed tone.

She looks at him, her eyes burning with intensity different from her usual self. They're fierce, but electrocuted by anxiety, same as her hyperventilating nose and manic ears.

"I'm fine but I would like to leave now." She answers him, horrifyingly quiet.

"We were doing the puzzle normally, but when the lights started going crazy, she said she wanted to stop." Humbert explains, his face creased with worry.

The ram immediately understands what's going on. Though other may not have noticed, Eloise had been putting on a brave face the entire time. Desmond can only scream at himself internally for not being able to prevent this. He should've shut the idea down entirely.

Once the ferret returns and escorts them out, he offers a deep apology, to which the hare refuses, insisting she's fine. It only takes a few breaths outside of the escape room for her shaking to subside, and her typical haughty demeanor take over.

"I apologize for my outburst." She declares, standing tall once more.

"Don't worry about it!" Humbert assures her. "We were basically done anyways!"

Brian starts tearing up. "Eloise, I'm so sorry for suggesting this, I had no idea-"

"Spare me." The long-eared female cuts him off. "I consented to entering, the blame is mine. I will buy us dessert to make up for it."

The caracal shakes his head. "Please, you don't need to make up for anything—"

"Let her buy dessert." It's Desmond who interrupts this time.

His girlfriend glances at him, noticing the same determination in his eyes as in hers. A content smile spreads on her lips.

"So we're settled."

No one dares challenge the resolution, and however clunkily, a lighthearted conversation kicks back up as the triple date makes their way to a nearby ice cream shop. Eloise walks hand in hand with Desmond, squeezing his palm with every step they take. Her hand is warm, small, filled with gratitude. Desmond's glad to be holding it, even though every squeeze shoots a twinge of guilt into his heart.

Solomon turns on the radio, titling his head in dissatisfaction at the punk rock music that fills the inside of his car. He tinkers with the dial until settling on one of his favorite stations: an old timey one with a penchant for love ballads. Across from him in the passenger's seat, Hafsa listens along, listlessly gazing out the side window at the rich summer nightlife whizzing by.

"This song is nice." The caracal notes. "I believe they made it for a movie."

"Yeah.."

Her ennui doesn't escape him. "What's wrong?"

"Have you ever thought about getting intimate?"

Solomon nearly slams on the breaks.

"You mean…?"

She looks back at him with an unreadable expression.

The male swallows. "Yes, I've considered it. But only on your terms."

"We should do it." She blurts out. "We should do it tonight."

AN: Thank you for reading! This ended up much longer than expected, so I hope you enjoy. Maybe I just have too much fun writing drama. I also find the idea of Desmond doing the walk of shame very funny.

It's okay Eloise, I don't like escape rooms either.

Take it easy and stay safe.