You hung around them from time to time, maybe twice a month. Learned about their relationship, how they weren't "open" to new people—and probably wouldn't be for the rest of their lives.

You learned their favorite foods, animals, places to eat together, brands of cologne, how they sleep, what they drink, favorite alcohol, what they think about other people.

You knew Chance's favorite slot machine brand off the top of your head—you had bought him one for his birthday. Like you had gotten Itrapped an ice freezer for his favorite brand of glacier ice, because he had mentioned one time on an offhand conversation that he never had enough space for the bags in the freezer. Like you had bought Mafioso thirty-hundred pillows the hour after he mentioned the three of them not having enough to circle the bed.

One time, you were just at the nearby forest park. You didnt exactly plan to pull a freezing Itrapped out of the frozen lake—and you definitely didnt expect to learn he was cold-blooded. freezing to the touch all of the time. That being the reason why he ate ice all of the time, and why he hated hot and spicy foods. You still scolded him for going into a below temperature lake in the middle of winter fully clothed.

Another time, it was with Chance. Having left a bar late at night, barely tipsy and starting the walk back home, you didnt plan to talk to anyone—until you were met with the sight of Chance literally getting thrown from a window above you. You had barely managed to catch the gambler, almost dropping him, and only getting a weak chuckle in response. His shades had fallen off somewhere and thats how you learned his eyes were genuinely golden. A bright, glistening yellow color. You still scolded him for getting thrown out of a casino.

The last time, was when you had gotten off of work early. Oh, why, you may ask? Because you had to bail Mafioso out from jail after he murdered three people. It was definitely a hefty sum, but it wasn't exactly a problem for you. On the drive to his house, you had seen that he lost his usual fedora, and learned he had black bunny ears on his head. And a bunny tail on his lower back. For a man over six feet tall, he was... just a little cute. You still scolded him for getting arrested.

Too often to be tired of them, too touchy to be seen as platonic, not enough on either end to be romantic. Too many overnight stays in the same bed as the three of them. Not enough to be romantic. Too many stolen glances, touches, flirts.

Much too many to be platonic.

It was a regular morning for the three.

Itrapped was sitting in the freezer, eating a bag of ice. Mafioso was cooking lasagna—saving a serving to be frozen for itrapped while the rest cooked— and making a smoothie. Chance was sprawled across the table, humming some obnoxious tune and messing with the forks.

Chance laughed from the table, a piece of ice getting thrown at him from Itrapped.