Cassian frowned a bit at Vince’s aloofness – all of it – but it rapidly built an index of mental notes in the back of his mind, things to follow up on or think about later. Like the salve he should probably find for his mouth, it wouldn’t do for him to look like he’d been fighting before the school year even starts. And, the fact that Vince knew he still wasn’t completely bought in to what was happening. But the fact was that he had his hand on the door and the train was taking off the platform. Cass had no choice.

He couldn’t help the audible scoff of laughter, shock maybe, for Vincent to quote so relentlessly. No more Shakespeare - that had been a rule, and despite his initial outburst of amusement Cass leveled him a warning look. Though he wouldn’t bother to tell him to stop out loud – odds were high that would only incite Vincent to do this all the time whenever he wanted to get a rise out of him, cocky maniac that he was.

“Perhaps you should audition for a play,” he retorted instead, with playful diffidence. In actuality, Vince would probably do well in theater, however ironic it would be for him to play Hamlet or Othello. He caught himself smiling at the idea as he hastily moved behind Vince. He moved his feet and hands through the water a few times to take off the worst of the dirt, then scooped up his shoes and easily bounded over the platform. He lingered a bit, offering Vincent a hand to climb up if he needed it.

Off still several meters away, Cass clocked a tugboat coming down the river, probably some of the first ones that were factory-bound before dawn. The sight made his heart rate tick up a beat, thinking about how lucky they were to have gone unspotted.

“There’s some pudding I’m sure,” he replied distractedly, dropping away from Vince hastily as he pulled on his shoes and they started their walk back. They probably shouldn’t… be seen together, really? Not rolled around in dirt and sand and tousled like this. Maybe Cassian could get away with it, but it would seem strange for his guest to be so, contrasted with the good mood of two gentlemen who supposedly just viciously fought.

“Maybe you head to your room, I can get us some things,” he started delicately, keeping his eyes averted from him to avoid seeing his reaction. He’d omit the insult of adding, and you can clean up, he’d probably want to for his own comfort anyway. “And I’ll come meet you there? Er, is dessert all you’d like? Please don’t be mad.

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