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Summary
Vantacrow huffs, slightly offended. “Stupid? I don’t think I sounded stupid. I actually think my arguments were pretty smart, Zali.”
Another stupid sentence. He was popping them out like a machine.
“Dr. Vezalius.” The black haired man corrected. “Only people that I like can call me that and I don’t like you.”
“Mmm, I don’t think that’s entirely true. You’re talking to me right now, aren’t ya?” The blond crooned, resting his chin on his palm with a dumb grin. “I think you like me.”
or
After losing everything's he's ever loved, Vezalius tries to drag himself further in life, and Vantacrow is a stone on the path he doesn't mind stumbling on.