By the time the lift opened onto the underground garage, the chocolate bar was down to its wrapper. Victor handed the empty foil back with an expression so serene it almost counted as smug.
"You're impossible," Elias muttered, shoving the wrapper into his pocket as they crossed to the waiting car.
The ride into the city was quick, but not quick enough for Elias to save his snacks. Between Victor "evening the score" and Ashwin "just making sure they're not poisoned," his hoard dwindled with every kilometer. Only the diet coke survived untouched, cold and sweating against his palm like the last bastion of his autonomy.
By the time the car slid to a stop outside the restaurant, Elias was glaring at the empty chip bag on Ashwin's lap. "You're both parasites," he said flatly. "If Robert ever joins in, I'm bringing a lunchbox with a padlock."
Ashwin's shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Relax. Robert doesn't like junk food," he said. "You're safe on that front."
