"You're going to leave me to eat alone?" I ask and he turns around and stares at me. Heaving a sigh, he leans up against the counter and watches me as I take a bite. "Do you have chocolate milk?" I ask through a mouthful of hot food.
"No," he answers and I glare at him.
"Why not?" I pester as I continue to chew.
"Because we're not 11," he answers with crossed arms.
"I drink it and I'm not 11," I retort with a roll of my eyes.
"You're literally sitting on the counter eating a grilled cheese and swinging your legs around like a kid," he scoffs as a hand extends to motion to each of my pointed out flaws. "You're not 11?"
"'You're literally sitting-,'" I begin to mock and he tilts his head.
"And you're not 11?" he repeats once more.
"Shut up Asa," I bite as I continue to eat my grilled
