Meanwhile, the tension between Nathan and Nael that had been simmering for many days finally boiled over in the morning.
Nathan had just reached the top of the stairs after preparing his lunch, as was now normal. Then Nael appeared from the opposite direction. The moment their eyes met, Nael's expression went from blank to sharp, visible disgust.
He veered toward the wall, pressing his shoulder against it as if Nathan carried a plague he didn't want to catch.
Nathan stopped dead. He'd had enough of the nonsense.
"I'm not a germ, Nael. You don't have to bleach the walls every time I walk past," Nathan said, his voice flat but clearly annoyed.
Nael didn't stop. He kept walking, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I don't have a problem with you."
"Stop it," Nathan said, stepping into Nael's path and blocking his way. "You've been acting like a brat for days. If you have something to say, say it to my face instead of acting like a coward."
