⊰☠⊱ — Standing in front of the frozen food section, Nicolas stared hard at the selection-- which could have been easily mistaken for a hard glare. Digits flexed, thumb kept picking at the many small bandages covering his hands.
This was his third time here in a span of two hours, the groceries he gathered the first two rounds went wasted and were long gone at some trash bin. Tired of living off instant noodles, he figured he would try cooking, but so far no luck-- if the wasted food was anything to go by. The kitchen back at his place was a mess, not as big as of a mess when food and chunks and drops of blood were decorated the table, the walls, and everything that was the kitchen. Bits of terribly chopped vegetables managed to land on his hair, but he remained unaware. He tried to make it as clean as possible for round three, but now, standing in front of the frozen section, he wasn't even sure what he wanted to make.