You were standing in the garden of your camp, the radioactive wasteland usually didn't allow much growth, so everyone was excited when the garden you all invested in grew. You sneaked yourself an apple and bit into it, happy that there was hope for everyone. The taste was a little sour, but still sweet in the aftertaste. You hear someone clearing their throat and turn around. It was Damian, your greek friend.

"Just because I wear an eyepatch doesn't mean I didn't saw that, πονηρή αλεπού"

He said with an amused expression. Not bothered by your behavior