Of all people, it had to be him. ”—I know that, smart ass. But I mean we’re locked in from the inside. As in, they didn’t realise they still had customers in here.”
"You didn't specify. Don't get fucking snappy with me."

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@trentonq
Of all people, it had to be him. ”—I know that, smart ass. But I mean we’re locked in from the inside. As in, they didn’t realise they still had customers in here.”
"You didn't specify. Don't get fucking snappy with me."
I’m not going to ask again: stop touching my hat
"Oh fuck." Q groaned as he rushed over and scooped up his sister with one arm. "I'm so sorry. She's really... curious. Jesus, 'Lo, you can't just go touching people."
"Defense against stupidity, sure.”
"So how many friends do you have?"
"You and everyone else — hate to burst your bubble but you ain’t that special, daddy.”
"Are you sure about that? You just called me "Daddy". I feel like that makes me special or you have some serious issues."
"Nailing the art of torture already — knew I liked that kid for a reason.’
"You are a cruel child nd this is why karma fucks you over. Because you're so mean to me."
"Oh - shit, sorry," Bobby apologized, backing away slightly from the person whom he’d just bumped into. "I wasn’t paying attention. My bad."
Q shrugged. "Oh, no worries. Should have been walking with my head up. No hard feelings."
"Wh.. what..? How the hell did it just lock like that?"
"That's what happens when shops close."
"The type of people my attitude scares away are the type of people I don’t want to be friends with."
"Ah, defence mechanisms."
"Glad you think juggling cupcake batter is funny. You’d better watch it or I’ll throw these marshmallows at you. Besides, I only let you back here because I felt bad for you and the kitchen was lonely for a change. Too many bubbly girls wanting butterflies on their bums? Or was it barbed wire, biceps, and frat boys?"
"I think it is fucking hysterical. Ooh, marshmallows from a marshmallow. Im terrified. Felt bad for me? You need me. Just admit it. You have no other friends. Try barely legal seniors getting their "Freedom" tattoos all ready coming in. You can tell how it make me feel."
"See this is why I work alone; I’ve had four assistants in the last week and they all sit on their arses or fail to show up at all. So you’ll forgive me if I’m not as amused as you seem to be by this absurd balancing act I’m performing with these cupcakes."
"That's fine. I intend to be amused enough for the both of us. Besides, I need a laugh after my day at work. Be kind. Isn't this all part of customer service or whatever?"
“I’m pretty sure I know how to sew. So, I won’t mind you. Thanks.”
"Ouch. Does that attitude make you any friends?"
"Good. Good, we’ve.. we’ve clarified that then."
"Good."
"Unlike you, I don’t need help. I’m fine on my own. Always have been. And I’m so sorry if I’m not cute to look at because I handle things differently to everybody else. Differently to you.”
"I didn't get anyone to help me, kid, but I should have. You don't know me just like I don't know you."
"Help? I don’t need help. I don’t need anyone, and I sure as hell don’t need you telling me I need to go talk about my feelings. You don’t know me, or how I feel, or what I’ve been through.”
"I didn't say that I knew you or how you felt or what you've been through. I said that I said the same things before. They're not interchangeable."
"Trust me, I have."
"Lying to yourself doesn't make it easier. I would know. I've said all the same things. You might want to go talk about this with someone."
”It’s not about being cute.. I was too young for a lot of things, but they all happened anyway. I’ve had a shit go.. so what? This is my life. I’ve accepted it.”
"Doesn't sound like it."