Looseleaf
CXXXIV. Noodles
"But Mels," Matt persisted, "I worked really hard on it. Plus, the sauce is actually red instead of green from last time." He added, "Please, please, please."
"I'm reading," Mello snapped. "Besides, how can I be sure that you aren't trying to poison me?"
Matt pouted, bouncing a little on the bed. "I wouldn't! I just want you to try the noodles that I made, jeez."
"Pasta," Mello corrected, flipping a page of his magazine.
"You're such a PMS-ing girl," Matt mumbled dejectedly, rising from the bed.
Mello's eyes flashed. "Mail," he said slowly, "you have about three seconds to take that back before I rip off your noodle."
Matt cocked his head to the side. "My noodle...?" It took a few moments for the threat to make sense. Once it had, Matt's eyes bulged. "I'm sorry!" he said quickly. "Mello is not a PMS-ing girl. He is a wonderful, badass, sexy blond that I really, really love." Matt nodded solemnly. "Who also has intriguing substitutes for the word penis," he whispered under his breath.
"Matt," Mello said warningly, an indication that he had heard what the gamer said.
"I'm sorry," Matt said automatically, and scrambled off to get more chocolate to appease the mafia boss. "Well," he grumbled to himself as he ransacked their cupboards, "at least I'm not the one with the creative synonyms."
Because, really...noodle?