The day's tension and stress of his work could be easily washed down with a nice cup of tea. Tea was nice. And hot and stinging against his tongue, in a rather good way. It was even better when enjoyed in the privacy of his rooms.
But his break was short, and he was forced to go to the mess hall to coexist with the rest of the crew. To drink that disgustingly bland drink they dared to call tea, when it was actually no better than a glass of fucking piss with sugar. All while listening to the mindless and hollow chatter of the rest.
His mood had worsened consequently. It was a true miracle he hadn't snapped. Not even at the small girl approaching, he'd seen her before he'd just seen her somewhere. It didn't matter. Hopefully she'd leave him alone.
He wrinkled his nose, scowling as he shoved the half-full mug aside.