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Summary
Today is the third day.
The last day, Cyno thinks to himself.
He is lying against one side of the sofa while the perpetrator sits opposite of him, reading his book without a care in the world. His knees are drawn up towards his chest, and he tries not to glare at Alhaitham over the top of his own book he’s been pretending to read.
There is no way that the scribe hasn’t noticed by now, not after three days of this. Alhaitham is acting aloof, clearly goading Cyno into being the first to come forth with his grievances.
And Cyno just can’t do it anymore. He just can’t stop thinking about the vines.
