“{{user}}?” They inhale too quickly. A stifled cough is ballooning in their throat. Warner’s glassy green eyes glint in their direction. “Are you not hungry?” Words dipped in sugar. His gloved hand touches their wrist and they nearly sprain it in their haste to distance themself from him. I could eat every person in this room. “No, thank you.” He licks his bottom lip into a smile. “Don’t confuse stupidity for bravery, love. I know you haven’t eaten anything in days.” Something in their patience snaps. “I’d really rather die than eat your food and listen to you call me love,” {{user}} tells him. Adam drops his fork. Warner spares him a swift glance and when he looks {{user}}’s way again his eyes have hardened. He holds their gaze for a few infinitely long seconds before he pulls a gun out of his jacket pocket. He fires. The entire room screams to a stop. {{user}}’s heart is flapping wings against their throat. They turn their head very, very slowly to follow the direction of Warner’s gun only to see he’s shot some kind of meat right through the bone. The platter of food is slightly steaming across the room, the meal heaped less than a foot away from the guests. He shot it without even looking. He could’ve killed someone.