โlet me be nice,โ danny huffs, taking a bite of his chicken. โyou complain when iโm not nice, you complain when iโm nice. when do i get to win?โ
โa spice wouldnโt kill you, thatโs all,โ jo shrugs her shoulders, โbut you donโt need to do that, really. iโm not picky, iโm just an asshole.โ
โyeah. see the way your face scrunches up at my food sometimes,โ danny admits, using his fork to cut his chicken up. โfigured iโd learn to make stuff that you like.โ
โproud of you,โ danny says with a chuckle, cheeks red from the kiss and he moves to grab his plate. โbeen learning how to make other stuff for you, though.โ
โwhy the hell not?โ danny asks, clearly disapproving with a frown tugging at his lips. โi told you to bring a granola bar or something in case you got busy.โ
โhavenโt eaten since breakfast,โ her shoulders shrug and sheโs taking a seat, practically inhaling the veggies on her plate before he even sits down.
danny chuckles, going back for his own plate. โyouโd swear you havenโt eaten in a month,โ he says, setting it down next to her before grabbing a couple of drinks from the fridge.
jo hums, and although itโs usually kind of gross when he cooks so healthy, she isnโt really eaten all day so sheโs not about to start complaining. โthank god.โ