Soft spoken with a broken jaw

[near_your_enemy]

Suppertime, and N is not in a particularly good mood.  He sits on the counter in the kitchen, decidedly Mihael-less--while the blonde's attention was loved, it wasn't exactly beneficial to thinking.

He munches on more animal crackers, snapping off the head of the seahorse he was currently holding between his fingers.

Comments

[coordinated_n]

*Near enters, and goes straight for the teakettle, as usual.*

[near_your_enemy]

He gives a small scowl, extending a foot from where he was sitting on the counter, and giving Near a hard nudge against the shoulder with his toes.

[coordinated_n]

N?

[near_your_enemy]

"Mmhm."

He snaps off the head of a giraffe.

[coordinated_n]

*Near continues on his way, to find the kettle.*

What's wrong now?

[near_your_enemy]

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

[coordinated_n]

You're right. I should just assume your violence is senseless.

[near_your_enemy]

"Oh, I apologize for letting you know I was here." He murmurs sarcastically, before finishing off the giraffe and digging around the box again.

[coordinated_n]

Don't pretend that that was a friendly alternative for a hello.

[near_your_enemy]

"You expect a friendly hello from me?"

[coordinated_n]

Of course not. Now shut up and let me make my tea.

[near_your_enemy]

"Don't tell me what to do."

He throws an animal cracker at Near's head.

[coordinated_n]

*It misses, but he hears it clatter against the wall.*

Did you just throw a cookie at someone holding a pot of boiling water?

[near_your_enemy]

"It's not a cookie." He responds haughtily.

[coordinated_n]

You're a twit.

[near_your_enemy]

"You're a bastard."