[peter resists the urge to blurt out 'sounds fake, but okay' like someone easily half his age — miles, gwen, peni (okay maybe not her) — might say but that doesn't stop his face from reacting with raised eyebrow and slanted mouth. blind. he can roll with that.]
Hear something?
[he taps his foot, half expecting her to try and say that she's hard of hearing too somehow. who does she think she is?]
[ her head tilts slightly as she takes another bite of her sandwich. ]
Heard a lot of things. Heard you by the fridge, sure you didn't take your own sandwich?
[ that seems likely, sure.
but wait for it. she picks up the other half of her (his!) sandwich, and offers it out to him. out of the kindness of her heart, obviously. ] You're welcome to have half of mine.
[errrk. that sound? peter's jaw metaphorically hitting the floor. his head darts from her to the fridge and then back to her.
wow. she's eating his sandwich and has the audacity to share. his stomach grumbles in reply. hangry would be an appropriate adjective right about now.]
We're gonna put a fork in the whole part where you just asked me if I took my own sandwich because I've heard some crazy things before but that's gotta take the cake. [not strictly true but she doesn't need to know that.]
But your sandwich looks a whole lot like mine. [his acusatory tone doesn't stop him from reaching back out for her (his) sandwich.]
[she must know that this is tantamount to a declaration of war. no more mister nice spidey.]
There's over a thousand different combinations of sandwich I could make with as few of the options we've got. It's pretty unlikely that you've managed to make a roast beef on wheat with just a hint of pesto and those little crunchy onion things.
[logic. he has it. let's see her try and refute it.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Hear something?
[he taps his foot, half expecting her to try and say that she's hard of hearing too somehow. who does she think she is?]
no subject
Heard a lot of things. Heard you by the fridge, sure you didn't take your own sandwich?
[ that seems likely, sure.
but wait for it. she picks up the other half of her (his!) sandwich, and offers it out to him. out of the kindness of her heart, obviously. ] You're welcome to have half of mine.
no subject
wow. she's eating his sandwich and has the audacity to share. his stomach grumbles in reply. hangry would be an appropriate adjective right about now.]
We're gonna put a fork in the whole part where you just asked me if I took my own sandwich because I've heard some crazy things before but that's gotta take the cake. [not strictly true but she doesn't need to know that.]
But your sandwich looks a whole lot like mine. [his acusatory tone doesn't stop him from reaching back out for her (his) sandwich.]
no subject
There are only a finite number of sandwich options available here, that's not surprising.
[ this is the hill she will die on ]
no subject
There's over a thousand different combinations of sandwich I could make with as few of the options we've got. It's pretty unlikely that you've managed to make a roast beef on wheat with just a hint of pesto and those little crunchy onion things.
[logic. he has it. let's see her try and refute it.]