Cas said a quick ‘thank you’ to Iris as she handed him a plate, eager to dig into his portion of lunch. It had been weeks since he’d last eaten pizza, so he was looking forward to devouring the two slices in front of him. The gourmet food in the capital was perhaps the luxury he’d missed the most while he had been stuck in the other districts. It had been a blessing that he’d been able to scrape together meals at all, and he wasn’t ungrateful for the help he’d received from Iris and Maisie, but there was no comparing to the rich flavors he enjoyed when he was home. He hoped Iris would like it too, since he knew she hadn’t been able to eat food like this for most of her life.
Lifting the first piece to his lips to take a bite, he chewed slowly as he watched his friends battle over the sofa across the table. Miles had almost managed to overpower Jay, pushing him off the edge to secure his old spot, but Jay was still stronger than him. He threw an arm around Miles’ neck and pulled him down with him roughly. As soon as the sofa was clear of bodies, he jumped back up and laid down again, looking at Miles with a victorious smile, “Wanna try that again, small fry?”
“I hate you,” Miles rolled his eyes, rubbing his sore tailbone, which he’d landed on when the other high born had thrown him from the couch. Giving up the match this time, he turned his attention to the food and filled up a plate with three slices of pizza to eat on the floor.
“Good effort,” Cas teased him unsympathetically. “I think I’d give that one a seven out of ten.” Almost every time Miles challenged Jay, he got his ass handed to him. Their car-obsessed friend was built stockier than either of them and spent even more time at the gym than the prince did. The only times Miles managed to win was when he caught Jay by surprise.
“You don’t have to rub it in,” Miles complained, stuffing a bite of pizza into his mouth. He shook his head. “This is my goddamn room. Why am I the one sitting on the carpet?”
“Because you have to earn sofa privileges,” Jay replied with a grin.
“Ass,” Miles scoffed. Chasing his first bite with a swig of champagne, he turned to Iris. “So, what do you think? Is it great or do I owe you two hundred credits?” he asked, changing the subject. “And don’t you dare tell me you hate it just for the sake of winning the bet!”
Lifting the first piece to his lips to take a bite, he chewed slowly as he watched his friends battle over the sofa across the table. Miles had almost managed to overpower Jay, pushing him off the edge to secure his old spot, but Jay was still stronger than him. He threw an arm around Miles’ neck and pulled him down with him roughly. As soon as the sofa was clear of bodies, he jumped back up and laid down again, looking at Miles with a victorious smile, “Wanna try that again, small fry?”
“I hate you,” Miles rolled his eyes, rubbing his sore tailbone, which he’d landed on when the other high born had thrown him from the couch. Giving up the match this time, he turned his attention to the food and filled up a plate with three slices of pizza to eat on the floor.
“Good effort,” Cas teased him unsympathetically. “I think I’d give that one a seven out of ten.” Almost every time Miles challenged Jay, he got his ass handed to him. Their car-obsessed friend was built stockier than either of them and spent even more time at the gym than the prince did. The only times Miles managed to win was when he caught Jay by surprise.
“You don’t have to rub it in,” Miles complained, stuffing a bite of pizza into his mouth. He shook his head. “This is my goddamn room. Why am I the one sitting on the carpet?”
“Because you have to earn sofa privileges,” Jay replied with a grin.
“Ass,” Miles scoffed. Chasing his first bite with a swig of champagne, he turned to Iris. “So, what do you think? Is it great or do I owe you two hundred credits?” he asked, changing the subject. “And don’t you dare tell me you hate it just for the sake of winning the bet!”