remy-moonâ:
Though Remy felt the universe had wronged him enough in recent history, he couldnât exactly risk being seen fighting over a loaf of bread in a supermarket, bare-faced and wearing an oversized hoodie. âOh, for your domme?â Just dig the knife in, Remy thought with a pained smile on his face. âI shouldnât eat bread anyway. Just thought Iâd treat myself. Never mind.â He didnât need carbs to treat himself. There was always ice cream.
Key raised his brow, not expecting the kicked puppy bit from the other sub. He looked familiar, very familiar, but he couldnât quite place him.
âItâs cinnamon raisin bread, how is that a treat?â Key asked, reaching for it and plonking it into the cart. âIf youâre going to treat yourself, go to the bakery. You wouldnât believe the shit they have in this place...â It astonished him, truly - the best he couldâve hoped for on the other side of the bridge was stale hostess snack cakes. Here? There were desserts he couldnât pronounce, flavors that heâd never even heard of. Rhubarb? What the fuck was rhubarb?











