Chip (Pick/Rome)

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"What's taking you so long." Pick grumbled, watching his best friend standing helplessly in front of the shelf filled with various chip packages. 

"I can't decide which one to buy," Porsche whined. Pick folded his arms and rolled his eyes at his friend's incompetence. 

"Just take whatever." He urged him grumpily. Porsche turned at him, shocked. 

"I can't just take whatever. What if N'Emma won't like it?"

Pick groaned again, walking closer to his friend. He scanned the flavours, pointing at the few. 

"Pick from these." He commanded. Porsche's eyebrow raised, and Pick knew, the tall dumbass would ask something he won't like to hear. 

"How do you know what N'Emma likes?" There was a hint of jealousness in Porsche's voice, but Pick decided to ignore it. 

"I don't know, what N'Emma likes." Pick rolled his eyes.

"But you just showed me." Porsche caused him. Pick was losing his patience. 

"She always eats those with Rome." He pointed out. Porsche's eyes lit up with sudden realization. 

"Oh, with N'Rome." Porsche sing-songed. 

"Fuck you. At least I know what my boyfriend likes, unlike someone." Pick flipped him off before he stormed off with a basket full of Rome's favourite snacks. 

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