25 suffer in silence

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  Scaramouche finally comes out of the pantry, empty-handed as he goes back to throwing the vegetables to fry in the pan, expression empty as he quickly sprinkles spices into them

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Scaramouche finally comes out of the pantry, empty-handed as he goes back to throwing the vegetables to fry in the pan, expression empty as he quickly sprinkles spices into them.

"You didn't find the sugar?" you ask, putting your phone to the side.

"What?" he asks, looking up from watching the pan, "Oh, no I didn't," he mutters, pulling out two plates from the cupboards and piling rice onto them.

You ignore his emotional distance from you, eyeing the plate he pushes toward you as he sits on the stool next to you.

"Thanks for cooking for me again," you slowly say in an attempt to start a conversation.

"I can't let my second lead die on me," he hums.

"Are you still hungover?" you question, which gets him to look at you with his cheeks full of rice, "You're less annoying than usual."

"No," he mumbles, "I don't think so."

"Well, if you say so," you counter, savoring the taste of the fried rice.

He shrugs, "Why are you so concerned all of a sudden?"

"Since we're friends," you answer, raising an amused brow at him, "Or did you forget everything from our time in the trunk?"

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