❝αιυтαтι ¢нє ∂ισ тι αιυтα ❞
ℋe'd seen some truly vulgart hings in his seventeen years of life, but this might take the cake.
ℋunger had driven him to seek out sustenance, and of all the places he could have chosen, he'd stopped at this dump. Hayato had years of experience that told him that dives and all their counterparts typically had the best and most varied selections of cuisine, despite their outwardly questionable looks. Tch. Looks like that doesn't apply here.
❝ℸthis shit isn't fit to be called food. Like hell I'm payin' for pig slop.❞ Hayato informed the bartender in no uncertain terms as he stalked passed the counter, hands shoved deeply in his pockets, uncaring of any possible repercussions of 'eating and running. Hell, he hadn't even bothered with the rest of the meal after taking one bite.
ℴn his way out the door, he spotted another male around his age about to begin chowing down, hesitated for a split second and then scratched at his head in irritation. Well, it's like doing a community service, or something...Coming to a stop beside the stranger, he reached out and snatched the food right out of his hands.❝I wouldn't eat that if I were you.❞










