"Oh? How unfortunate. Did you draw blood?" Duke didn't think Rowan was in trouble. After all, that guy could kill a man in cold blood if he wanted—just like a real member of Pareidolia.
"No. I was in a friend's grocery." Rowan sipped on the black coffee again and stuck his tongue out. He didn't like bitter things, especially when he could just add sugar or milk to fix the taste.
Then, Rowan remembered why he went out in the first place. "Wait, I'm going to cook breakfast for you. Are you still hungry?"
Duke just reached out a hand and accepted Rowan into his arm. The painter even hugged him loosely while looking up to meet those kind eyes. Duke pecked at Rowan's lips. "I don't mind eating whatever you cook for me. I just wish you'd add a few more plates and take it as a brunch."
