There's a thing called food, ya know

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You tapped your leg, watching Mark play the game from earlier. You were intrigued by the game, making small notes about the strategies your housemate was using to try to beat the level.

Mark tapped on his screen and upgraded a few of his fighters, them dying shortly after.

"Damn." Mark said, the screen going to the retry and quit options. He hit quit and shut off his phone, standing up after. He looked down at you, helping you get up from the couch.

"You probably should've upgraded your stuff earlier." You said, watching Mark's face carefully.

He nodded, agreeing with your statement. "Yeah, I should've." He shook his head. "Anyways, we should eat something."

You shrugged. "Do I have too?"

Mark stared at you with slight shock. "Yeah! How are you supposed to survive?"

You stared back at him blankly. "I don't."

He was quiet, like his brain was lagging behind a few seconds.

"Hush." He said. "Anyways, I have toaster, waffle-maker, and other things you can use to make yourself a snack."

You stuck out your tongue. "But what if I don't want a snack."

"What?"

"What if I want a meal?"

His brain once again behind a few seconds before a blush grew across his face. "U-uh." He tripped over his words, not knowing what to say.

You chuckled to yourself. "Not like that, dummy. Get your mind out of the sewers." You stood up and had to reach up to smack up-side the head. "I meant like a happy meal. From McDonald's."

"Ow." He said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Do you have a McDonald's in this small town?" You asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know," The blush on his face receded. "I  don't get out much."

"Loser." You said.

"Rude."

Published: January 28th

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