"I threw my pie for you."
"You… threw your pie… for me,” he repeated, a threatening intent underlying his tone. Dangerous enough to promise what was to come for the brunette with his poorly disguised threat; he was a short fuse that was ready to blow, a volcano that was about to erupt so splendidly.
He wiped the cpream of the pie off his face with one hand, flinging the remnants of it onto the floor. And then he laughed. Laughed like it was one of the funniest thing he had ever possessed the pleasure to come across, a dash of hysteria mixed into it, before it soon turned into a glare.
"You’re dead," he said, grabbing hold of his own cream pie.












