αяє тнσѕє му ¢нυ¢к тαуℓσяѕ? *:.｡..｡.:*ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕚𝕖 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕟 *:.｡. .｡.:*

𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖥𝖨𝖵𝖤: 𝖢𝖺𝗇 𝖨 𝖢𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖪𝗂𝗅𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖨𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽?

"$14.00." The man behind the counter grunts, thrusting out one sausage-fingered hand.

Before she can reach into her jean pocket, I bump her to the side with my hip and stick a small wad of cash into his hand. "'s on me, sweetheart."

y/n yanks me back a few metres by the collar, whispering "Where did you get American dollars from?" Her breath tickles my neck, and I try my best to ignore the feeling.

"You really think I would go to America without any usable mula? I nicked it from all mighty Miguel's man purse before we left," I return the favour, purposely breathing a bit harder than I need to, just to watch the red tinge creep up her otherwise nonchalant face. "He has all the different kinds of currency for longer missions, where you would need a way to get by."

Pushing me away, y/n crosses her arms across her chest, mumbling something under her breath that sounds a lot like "I need a pint."

Chuckling, I rip my eyes from her cute face and watch as a younger, less angry man starts to wrap up our food in paper bundles.

"My god, I'm hungry. Let's gorge!"

~

Y/N POV:

"I hope the chippies haven't cooled down too much," I pout, setting down one of the two wrapped packages. "I think we got here fast enough."

We has chosen a building a little bit closer to the party this time, hoping to hear something from the other team soon. Also, I wanted to listen to their music.

"Should be fine." Hobie settles down across from me, beginning to unwrap the bundle he was holding.

The smell of chicken salt and batter fills my nose, earning a pleased hum from both of us. Wasting no time, we start digging in.

"Soooo..." Hobie starts, brushing some chicken salt from his lip. "If you don't mind me asking, you said you have an adopted mother? What's the story there?"

I kind of expected him to question me. People always do.

"When I was about two, my twin sister and I were playing knight and princess in our living room. I was knight, obviously. Someone started pounding on the door. Our father always told us NEVER to open the door. Not even with him right next to us. We stay where we are, and let daddy handle it." Hobie sits there, fiddling with his lip piercing. He gives me an encouraging nod, as if to say 'continue'.

"Well, he ended up going and opening the door. All we heard was a loud yell and a slam as the door was shut. Father had yelled at whoever was there, then stepped outside to talk."

I took a second to eat a bite-sized piece of squid before continuing.

"The yelling only got louder, taking my mother away from cooking empanadas in the kitchen. Opening the door, she steps outside, too, apron still on. After maybe ten minutes, the yelling stops. Valeesha and I never stopped listening, huddled together, backs pressed against the leather couch."

A sniffle escapes me as I talk about my sister. Hobie presses his hand against my thigh, giving it a squeeze.

"A gunshot rings out. Still, we stay in place. Sirens approach our apartment. I can't remember much after that. All I recall from Maleena's story is that they ended my dad, but not my mother. The police reckon they took her."

The food was gone now, the empty paper now scrunched up and discarded. Hobie had taken it's place in front of me, eyes sincere. Its the most emotion I've ever seen him show before.