coming through! {* hunger gets the best of him at precisely 2:30 in the afternoon. he doesn't care if he's not a student, or what the daily special is, as long as it fills up the gaping hole that is his stomach so that he can cope a little longer. why hasn't he left yet? damned if he knows—a mysterious inner voice that doesn't sound like him chances a guess that he likes it and taeyong shivers— } oh, /shut up/. {* he weaves through half empty tables toward the back and slams his tray down. } hi.
( _it’s not that zitao doesn’t appreciate the food that the school has to offer, for there’s a significant amount of care that’s put into the meals that he finds touching. rather, his system yearns for something more raw, with life still seeping from its form. the thought should’ve made him sick, but it only drew saliva. he stirs the food on his tray with metal chopsticks, wondering the easiest way to go about his food. jolts at noise, turning to the source with a surprised look ) hi? hi. ( _ feeling obligated to say something. continues— ) sup. ( _ah, yes—much observance had allowed tao to sneak slang into his growing vocabulary. he does well to disguise his pride )