room 609 | r.p

t h i r t y

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𝕤𝕪𝕕𝕟𝕖𝕪

"This is fucking disgusting."

"Austin, it's literally a condiment. It's not going to kill you."

"It's black! And it's chunky!"

"It's chunky because you fucking used the spoon to mix it together!"

"...oh."

I let out a huff and move the jar in my hands closer to the man, only to have him shy away from it and scrunch up his nose. "Oh my God."

"Get that shit away from me!" he screeches.

"Austin!" I drag out, fed up with his behaviour. "It's literally Vegemite. I ate this every morning when I was younger and I'm still alive and healthy."

"I've tried it before, I don't need to try it again." he complains. "I also forgot to add the fact that I hated it! It literally smells like Chases sock drawer!"

"Mate— you tried it with a spoon."

"And?"

"And?" I mimick him, making my voice deeper and pulling a stupid face. "You're not supposed to eat it like that!" I say, slapping my hands on the kitchen counter in front of me.

"Having it on bread doesn't sound appetising either... how about I just not try it, and we call it a day?" he suggests, tapping my shoulder and pulling the fakest smile he possibly could.

"No."

"Sydneyyy!" he drags out like a child. "It's literally forbidden Nutella. It's practically wet yeast."

As soon as he says this, Chase comes into the kitchen and places his dirty plate into the sink. "Sydney," he starts, dramatically pointing his finger at me. "I don't know what crack they put in that Vegemite shit, but if my mouth cold have an orgasm— it just did."

My eyes widen and I fail to find the words to respond to him. He gives us both finger guns before walking back out of the kitchen like he didn't just say what he said, and continues on with his day.

"Uh-" I mutter, scratching my head. "What he said.... I mean, he admitted to it being good— not the other part."

Austin huffs as he looks over the jar once more, scrunching his nose up as he reads over the label. "How much will you give me to eat some?"

I scoff. "The fuck? Nothing."

He rolls his eyes. "Should've known that was gonna be your answer... I guess I'll try some."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure that your sure is sure?"

"I- What? Yes."

"Are you sure that your sure is sure that your s-"

"Oh my fucking god— yes! Just give me a butter knife so I can try it." he snaps, making grabby-hands towards the drawer that I'm leaning on.