Wars doesn’t need to be loud and dangerous—it can be calm yet poisonous.
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Sea food. Pasta. Meet. Wine. Iced tea.
In different forms, plates, and glasses, the dishes and beverages served were carefully placed in their table in hopes of not disrupting their already bad moods. Without saying a word to each other, the four of them began eating their dinner—only the soft sound of their utensils hitting the plates, clatters of the movements on the table, and the soft, classical, music that they played on Lauren’s request.
Now, they’ve been at it for the past 25 minutes.
This is practically déjà vu. Still being the novice out of the four, Georgia feels the most unsafe in their group. In a slow motion, she twirls the pasta and tried her best to not lift up her gaze. We should’ve declin
