“It’s none of your business, brat,” he grumbled, stuffing his mouth with more of the ship’s only stocked up food — you were one of the ship’s commanders, and well, he was a person of importance, therefore your word technically does not apply to him.

He was hardly considerate of all the other mouths that had to be fed. It has been an ongoing argument between the both of you; you asking him to stop eating, and him telling you off.

“I’ll eat whatever the hell I wanna eat.”