He blinks. Looks down. “Damn it,” he replies, noticing litte drips of coffee on the side. In which, he cleans it with a simple lick, “I’d just gotten this as a gift, too.”
A sigh, before he bows once more. “I’m sorry again. Stop by Bloodhounds Gym if there’s any bills I need.”
“Ah,” he bows, respectfully lowering himself as he felt her brush by, “sorry. I didn’t see you. Did I get any on you?” he asks. In both hands, a cup of coffee.
he left @spoiledpinks a gift at her doorstep. clothes, toys, food. for her and the baby. a note on top that says:
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ‘congrats, min.
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ —–— sung.’