Bora had just come back home. While you were sleeping, he drove off to get breakfast. You had only just got up as Bora was heading inside. He walked into the house, placing his own food down in the counter. You heard him shuffle around for a bit under he picked up something from a bag. Then he trotted back into your room. Like the good older brother he is, Bora bought you some food as well.

“Your fries, my dear little friend,” Bora chimed. He placed the little pack of McDonalds fries on your bedside table.