Bro, what! He has a Quintillion?

"...you won't be able to return."

"Do you love her so much?"

Aria asked, staring across the garden, from the top of the sycamore tree. Alves was so tired of staring at the top of the branch that he mumbled as though he was talking to the lawn of greenery beneath his feet.

A thud! At his front. When he lifted his head, it was Aria. It seemed that the latter had realised the odds... that was why he made that decision.

He walked closer to Alves then sat next to him on the wooden cedar bench carved like a fancy photoshoot hanging chair...

"Why should I answer your questions though?"

Alves bounced back at Aria. He watched as the tough face of Aria melted into a thin smile. Alves got more offended.

"And why the hell do you act this way around me. What to do you think? That we are friends?"

Alves snapped, keeping a glare that matched the weight of his words. Aria kept a plain stare at him.

"What's that look? Shouldn't you be apologising? Or do you really want me to take out the rage, of what grandma did, on you?"

Alves w