Page 129 of Ghost Ribbon

Ilya’s arms hung in the air for a second, still extended toward me, his momentum arrested mid-lunge. He pouted.

“Fucking mood killer,” he muttered.

Ilya turned back to me, his expression shifting back to delighted in the span of a heartbeat.

“Mario,” he said, holding up one of the bags with the triumphant air of a man presenting treasure. “I brought you so many snacks.”

“Snacks,” Alexei said flatly.

“Mind your own business,” Ilya replied without looking at him. “I’m not here to see you.”

Alexei’s jaw tightened.

Ilya ignored this entirely, waddled past him with his arms full of bags, and made his way to the couch where I was sitting. He dropped onto the cushion beside me with a satisfied sigh, the bags crinkling as he set them down between us.

He kind of knew about my situation.

He had to. He was the one who had hacked my medical files. He hadn’t said anything directly to me about it, but there was something in the way he looked at me sometimes that told me he understood more than he let on.

He started unpacking the bags.

There were a lot of snacks. An unreasonable amount, but half of them were already opened.

Bags of gummies with the corner torn off. A box of cookies that was clearly missing its top layer. A package of dried fruit that had been picked through.

He followed my gaze to the evidence of his own snacking and shrugged without a trace of guilt. “The thought matters, Mario.”

I shook my head, amused.

“It’s the thought that counts,” I corrected gently.

“That’s what I said.”

I laughed.

I really liked Ilya. He was funny. I mean, he was loud and ridiculous and had the attention span of a caffeinated squirrel, but underneath all of that, there was something genuinely good about him. Something that made me feel safe, and he could be super cute too.

He settled back into the couch, tucking his legs underneath him, and grabbed a half-eaten bag of gummies from the pile.

“Soooo,” he said, chewing. “Have you talked to Sasha lately?”

I had recently found out that Sasha had a crush on Kento.

Who also happened to be Ilya’s enemy.

I didn’t know the full history there. I picked up enough fragments to understand that whatever existed between Ilya and Kento was not the kind of rivalry that could be resolved with conversation and a handshake. “Ummm,” I said, the syllable stretching out as my brain scrambled for a safe response. “A bit. Not much lately.”

Ilya nodded slowly, his expression shifting into something knowing and judgmental.

“Well,” he said, pointing a gummy at me, “I think you should make better friends, Mario.”

I blinked.

“She obviously has shit taste in men,” he continued. “I can’t imagine her being any good at anything if her judgment is that bad.”

I pressed my lips together.

This was dangerous territory.