All you wanted to do was eat your toast upstairs in peace. You woke up literally dying, barely feeling your pulse, breathing like one of those inbred pugs with respiratory problems and your body felt like you were in Antarctica with Techno’s polar bear Steve. Speaking of Techno, the fucker wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Techno, please, let me eat my toast,” you whined as you sat on the edge of your bed with the plate on your nightstand while you shivered under your covers. Techno scowled at you from the door frame and shook his head. “Dude, what did I do?”

“You know what you did.”

“If this is about me lying to you like literal months ago when I said that Will ate the last of your waffles, I’m not sorry and I’d do it again.” You muttered bitterly.

“Oh I already knew about that, I just wanted an excuse to beat up Wilbur.” Techno crossed his arms and succeeded in coming across as threatening as possible.

“Remember to put the printed paper that tells you about the medication and side effects back into the box next time you steal Wilbur’s meds,” Techno said.

Oh fuck.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied, twitching under the harsh glare of Techno.

“Look, I don’t want to go through the stages of grief with you.”

“What?” You said as Techno rolled his eyes.

“You make it so easy to bully you. You’re in denial. I know you took his meds.” Techno stepped closer into his room. “I monitor whether Wilbur takes his medication, he’s not subtle either with flushing it half the time, and one of the strips is missing from the kitchen.”

“So next time,” Techno repeated, voice deathly calm and boarding scary with concern underlined, “Don’t take someone else’s medicine.”