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Man on the moon.

STEPHEN'S POV

Clyde made pizza. It was surprising to me that he even knew how to, almost as much as it was surprising that the pack house even had the necessary ingredients we needed to make one. When I had asked him why he chose to stress himself out and make pizza instead of instant noodles or something, he simply smiled at me as he brought the cooked pizza out from the oven.

“I'm pretty sure Ardyn would eat anything you make, if that's what you were worried about,” I mumbled, the lovely scent of pizza filling the atmosphere and reaching my nostrils.

“It's not that he wouldn't eat anything else,” Clyde mused. “It's just that I promised I would make it for him, or we would just order some, if he behaved for a week straight without any complaints from anyone. And he did, so I suppose his reward is in order, right?”

I plopped down on the chair I dragged back when we had first entered the kitchen, chugging down a bottle of water. The temperature was cool, not cold enough that it woul
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