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[dnangelic]

' i'll deliver a full refrigerator tied and strung up to the bottom of a helicopter every time that i visit , of course . ' of course not : though , when it came to a character like him , could anybody , sakura most especially , have really been so sure ?

setting things up this way would only make it that much more entertaining when he did inevitably welcome sakura to a few new accessories at home --- yes , despite the protests . he's already had a mind for a few pillows , what was a freezer to keep a little drink and food ? even a small one , enough to keep leftovers or frozen breads and maybe something sweet or two .

' but --- you can worry about that later . ' as for the rest , his lip tugs again . it's a nigh-immediate , near-exhausted answer in his thoughts : steal for over hundreds and hundreds of years , and you inevitably built up a little repute .

nothing that someone like sakura would have known , much less even cared for ; so he had imagined , so he seems to be proven incorrect , if only by the latter . even then , his eyes only narrow and shine with some sort of secret humor that he doesn't share with the other : ' who knows , right ? why don't you watch for yourself , some day ? after all , i take it you've still never seen one of the great dark mousy's heists . '

“And where do you think I could be keeping anything you get me to cook, dumbass?”

He’s so focused on that conundrum that he cant even bring attention to anything else. In his defense, this isn’t even to mention the question of where they’d put anything left over—there’s no fridge here, no icebox, not even a damn communal one. Unless Dark just goes out to buy shit every time he wants something (and why is he even entertaining the dumb idea!?), they’re gonna be shit outta luck.

“And don’t say you’ll get me somethin’ for that, either,” he adds on quick, though, because a momentary fear makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end; “there’s no room to put anything.”

And let it be known: He really doesn’t wanna grace his threats with responses. It’s hard as shit keeping the little klepto’s secret as it is (why he agreed is beyond him), but if word gets out about a thief in the night here in town, Bofurin’ll rip the place apart looking for him. It’s just as much about saving his own skin as it is Dark’s, sure, but he just—he doesn’t want anyone going through that trouble.

Also, his egg is done, so not a damn thing matters anymore.

“How’d you even get famous enough to keep cards?” He’s asking with no animosity because of the egg, though, Dark better know that. “And famous enough for people to recognize’em?”