❝ It’s too late now. ❞ There’s no going back.
"You’re a fraud. You’re trash. You’ve never seen a spoon in your life.”
Levi stalks closer, voice low and accusatory.
❝ The utensils lie. ❞
"Take it back. Take it back.”
because they have a lot of spirit.
i came out here to have a good time and i’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.
❝ It’s not. ❞
Levi shakes his head sadly, his expression growing grave with seriousness as he looks to the ground, defeated.
❝ It’s—-… it’s a fork. ❞
The fork clatters to the floor as Spirit’s mouth goes slack. Levi Harrow might as well have just shown her a dead body.
"What are you talking about.”
Levi inhales sharply at the sight, turning on his heel to face Spirit with a look of utmost sadness.
❝ There are no spoons here. ❞
"What do you mean."
She digs around in the drawer until her fingers curl around what is most definitely a fork, pointing it at Levi semi-threateningly.
"Look at me. Look at me right now. Tell me that this isn’t a spoon."
Bracing his fists at his side, Levi nods in preparation.
❝ It’s time. ❞
Chin stuck out, she practically marches into the kitchen and opens the utensils drawer for Levi (there’s a crayon, three matches, and a little bit of dried barf in there).
"Do what you have to."
Wild-eyed and anxious, Levi walks into view, blinking
rapidly at the other before realizing they were in search
of an explanation for his appearance.
❝ I'm here to take your spoons. ❞
She heaves a sigh of relief, melodramatic to most but perfectly appropriate for this situation, thank you very much.