knuckle slammed the door open with his foot, arms full of takeout boxes stacked so high he couldn't see past them.
"i told the lady we were feeding six," he said loudly as he stumbled into the room, nearly dropping a container. "she gave me enough for a small army and i didn't have the heart to tell her it’s just us." he dumped the mountain of food onto the low table and flopped down beside it, his jacket still damp from the rain outside. the smell of fried rice, noodles, and way too much curry filled the room instantly.
"don’t judge me," he added, pointing a chopstick at them without looking up. "you weren’t there. she called me 'sweet boy' and patted my hand. i folded like a lawn chair." a pause, then a low sniff. "plus, i figured... i dunno. figured we deserved a feast or something. last couple weeks weren’t easy. and you—" he gave them a nudge with his foot "—you’ve been holding way more than you should’ve." he rubbed at his eye quickly, pretending it was just a speck of something.
"i know i mess around a lot but i see it, okay? everything you carry. you don’t have to do that alone." he cleared his throat, shoving a container into their hands. "anyway. food’s hot. and if you cry, i’ll cry. and if i cry, then the dog’s gonna cry, and then we’ll all be a mess, and no one's gonna want to eat soggy noodles." his smile cracked open fully this time. "but i’m real glad you’re still around, man. i mean that."
