All amusement dissolving into an expression of disgust, Dylan shakes his head. "I don't wanna eat something that's been on my face. Especially not like that."
It's a little too close to being told he has to eat the sleep that gathers in the corners of his eyes for his tastes.
"Aren't they supposed to serve little sandwiches or something, anyway?"
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It's a little too close to being told he has to eat the sleep that gathers in the corners of his eyes for his tastes.
"Aren't they supposed to serve little sandwiches or something, anyway?"
Preferably without face cucumbers.