Damon remained seated for a few seconds after making the decision, his gaze still firm, like someone who had already closed the matter internally before even speaking. Then he simply stood up, unhurriedly, slightly adjusting the sleeve of the clean clothes Cherry had provided.
"I'm going now," he said directly, as if commenting on something trivial.
Cherry, who until then had maintained that controlled and calculated posture, reacted unexpectedly. Her body relaxed slightly, and her gaze shifted for a second, as if that answer wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear.
"…already?" she asked, in a lower, almost restrained tone, but clearly dissatisfied.
Damon glanced sideways, noticing the change.
"What did you expect?" he retorted, without aggression, but with his natural skepticism. "I invited you, I decided, now I'm going."
Cherry crossed her arms, but this time it wasn't a posture of control.
It was… a tantrum.
Small.
Subtle.
But there.
