"You know, when you said we would be shopping for weapons, I was thinking more of underground g*n dealers and definitely not the mall," Hawk chirped from beside me, to which I chuckled.
"Hawk, do you know your problem?"
"Which of them? Is it the one where I wake up in the middle of the night only to whack myself in the head because I remembered something dumb I said in elementary school? Or the one where I still wear my Scooby doo pajamas from when I was 14?"
"So, I guess it's problems then," I said between chortles, with Hawk echoing the throaty sound as he said,
"yup."
"Well, the one I'm talking about now is your dress sense. You might not be a Zac Efron, but you're not exactly bad either. But your dress sense? Well," I drawled.
"Let's just say it could do with some modifica
