”Oh your words, Touka-chan, how they woundme,” he retorted dramatically, a hand raising and placed against his chest to signify a broken heart.
It was cute how she hated him so much. It made her only more pleasing. Of course, her scent wasn’t as lovely as Kaneki-kun’s, so she wasn’t worth his time. Plus, she had an attitude set on him, and there was no way he could sway this bullheaded ghoul. Shame, really, she would have made a lovely appetizer to Kaneki.
”Mhm. I’ll order a coffee then.”
❝If only you meant that literally.❞
No amount of flare would belay the suspicion she puts upon him in dutiful charge, a menacing grace that is only bestow to the perfection of predators such as themselves. His words were mere distractions from a truer purpose, an ideology suffocated in an ever roaring hunger: eat the weak. The intent of his existence is to harm that which she’s grown rather accustomed to (though admittance of such a fault nary would pass over her lips, damnation floundering ), bordering on ghastly.
A shifting spines cracks, moving away from the counter in lackadaisical motion, acquiescing to the order placed despite earlier hostilities. Best not to make a scene though the urge grows stronger with each passing second he lingers. And the drink pours easily enough, this proverbial ambrosia they can indulge in being their vexing species holds no harbor for normalcy. Saucer dips below the cup in proper placement within moments, positioning it before the haughty ghoul with an obvious annoyance.
❝What’s your business with the manager anyway?❞