David's comment about cooking fancy food confused Luciel, slightly. His explanation of what he was cooking was that it was mostly made from cans, although he'd received decent reviews on its simplicity. The concept of people thinking it was fancy although simple and mostly can made...
Typically, the assumption was that [i]most[/i] people aren't born in prison and learn skills in life. Regardless, Luciel's mood seemed to pitch in response to David's aggressiveness.  Perhaps he'd taken his skills for granted that he knew how to conceal a fire, although, based on David's behavior Luciel wasn't sure he trusted him enough to respect the method. With this, the eye contact with David mere inches from Luciel's face was opportunity enough for the albino to tense the muscles around his eyes, fabricating a threatening glare from an otherwise friendly smirk. Without a word, he let David leave, recomposing himself with a blink of an eye as he turned to Ace for a moment before proceeding to boil noodles. "So, what is your opinion of casserole?" Luciel asked, slashing into a half-pound pack of lean ground beef which he proceeded to fry in the skillet, mincing it with a wooden spoon as he went.

[color=bc8dbf]I had nothing to prove to him. David was more than welcome to have [i]none[/i] of what I intended on having, and had made enough for others. His tone made me want to headbutt his nose into his handsome skull; ungrateful, untrusting self-entitlement...no better than humans, pretending to know people without even trying to empathize.
Knowing what's best?
Maybe it's just been a long day. Everyone could benefit from some actual rest and it wasn't the time to be getting caught up over seemingly nothing.
You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, anyway...

I left the bag on the counter empty...out of spite.
There would be more than enough time to take what I wanted without the [i]fucking warden[/i] breathing down my neck.
[/color]

It didn't take long for Luciel to sling together the dish in a pot which he hoisted onto the coffee table with a big spoon and bowls. "It's not much" he started, serving himself a bowl and laying back in the couch, almost tempted to turn on the tv before remembering the layer of subtlety that they were in.
Gawd, freedom was so close that he could almost touch it. It made his chest hurt a little...or maybe it was the trickle of poison to tell him another day had officially been marked off of his time. A tiny daydream teased the edges of his vision as he looked into the forkful of noodly deliciousness. It made him hesitate, his heart sinking...
Cooking always hurt, taunting him...mocking him..."Heh, if I had more time and ingredients..." he mused out loud before taking the first bite.

Never breaking composure in front of Ace.