TWENTY THREE

The next day I decided to do a little grocery shopping since the snacks at my house were starting to disappear, and I didn't need to go to Sherlock Holmes solving crimes where the salted potato chips crumbs lead to the perpetrator, Ares' room.

I rode the bus and headed to the Asian supermarket to pick out my favorite snacks to gobble on and hide from the muncher at home. I had to hide it well, or else his nose would suspect my room for protecting the suspect. I walked through the aisle of varieties of chips, cookies, and candy, grabbing my favorites and others that seemed interesting to eat. I was looking for my favorite strawberry Pockey and found one last box waiting for me to catch and be fed. I outstretched my arm, ready to grab; my fingers touched the cardboard when at the same time, another set of fingers grasped the other side.

I snapped my head to the owner of those fingers when I found myself staring at those blue eyes. I let a low growl at that person who only looked at me.