The man behind the counter roared with laughter before speaking, effectively cutting Rashim’s own comment off at the source, “That’s the problem boy. Yer too… soft looking.” The old man’s eyes never left the meats before him as he flipped them, added seasoning, sauces, and other oddities at seemingly random intervals. 
 
“Soft isn’t the appropriate word, but he’s right. You don’t give off an intimidating aura. It makes you seem easy.” The blonde came in from behind after the tall boy stuttered out a bit of an odd defense before looking Rashim over. An eyebrow re-rose at the statement before evergreen eyes were locked behind their lids. Was it supposed to be a compliment? He wasn’t sure if he should tell Pyrrus that he could hear everything he said. His ears weren’t there for decoration, and his father had said that he had very good hearing, that he LIKED that fact. It could be a nuisance when his elder brother brought… friends home. Even if they’re rooms weren’t exactly right next to each other. 

Elmiir sliced a lime before finally removing the heavenly smelling meals from the sizzling hot top. Quickly, and more than expertly, he tossed some green leafy veggies, bell peppers, and other such things on the meat dishes then squeezed half a lime onto Rashim’s Tuna, and a quarter onto Pyrrus’ meal.

FINALLY, the hunger was killing him. Glancing over at the honey eyed teen Rashim put his hand before his face and pointed toward the now finished food. “Food’s done," he said before the rotund cook could do so. Call it retribution, either way, the other boy needed to stop staring at him, and pay attention to the food. He was hungry, but it was awkward to be stared at. With ears twitching above his head, the cat picked up his cutlery and started to satiate his hunger.