“Happy birthday,
Peters!”
He turned around in
surprise, spotting A rushing to him with Mack and Touta on her heels. She smiled
this time (which surprised him – since when did she smile?) and shoved
something into his hands, something large and heavy and bottle-shaped. He threw
the woman a look.
“Is this alcohol–”
“No take backs. This is
*good* alcohol.” Mack clasped Peters on the back and handed something square,
this time wrapped in red paper with a golden ribbon affixed on top.
“Enjoy this, assbite.”
Peters said nothing. Touta
came forward next, holding something small this time, smaller than the square
parcel. “I can’t believe you’re twenty-six,” the Japanese said in disbelief. “You
don’t look that old.”
“Drinking from the
fountain of youth,” he replied with a smirk. A rolled her eyes.
“Or actually eating
healthy and working out on a regular basis.” She poked his arm.
“That too. Thanks,
really – I told you not to get me anything,” Peters defended. It was true – he had
specifically requested for no gifts. He wasn’t the type of person who would
hold a grudge if he received nothing on his birthday. Mack shrugged.
“Touta and A wanted
to, so I tagged along. Wasn’t supposed to get you something to make you happy,
but I found that,” he nodded at the square, “And thought you’d like it. So
accept them. No take backs, as A said, or she’ll skin you alive.”
