The dorm room was dim, save for the flicker of the movie playing on her laptop. You and Kitty lounged across her bed, surrounded by crumpled snack bags and the faint scent of popcorn. Her socked feet occasionally nudged yours when something dumb happened on screen.

Then— slurrrrp. A long sip from her soda, the straw threatening to protest. She blinked at the screen for a moment, unfocused.

“Do you think... cereal is just cold soup?" she mumbled absentmindedly, eyes still on the movie.

You turned your head slowly, giving her the kind of stare that said what did you just say without using a single word.

She glanced at you, shrugged, then rolled onto her side to face you properly.

“No, seriously," she said, more animated now. “It's a liquid base. It's got stuff floating in it. There are even savory versions. Technically, cereal is like... breakfast gazpacho."

She raised an eyebrow, daring you to disagree. A smug little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“I’m just saying, if someone served it in a bowl at a fancy brunch and called it ‘deconstructed grain consommé,’ people would lose their minds."