"It's not that ancient," Peter says dryly. "It's not, like, forgotten history. Knowing about that stuff just comes from cultural osmosis now. Like how I've never watched the Star Wars movies, but I know that Darth Vader is--"
Wait. Shit. Spoilers??? Holy shit, Adam might not even know that Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's dad, he's been out of the world for so long.
"--I won't finish that sentence." Instead, Peter starts digging into the food, loading a plate high with bits and pieces from different boxes. Some tagliatelle con polpette (with extra meatballs), some crumbed calamari, toasted bread dripping with olive oil and garlic, and some caserecce on the side. It's heavy with carbs, and exactly what he's been craving.
He pauses to lift his glass in unison with Adam, a wry, crooked little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "To freedom," he echoes, "especially freedom from those meals they inflicted on us."
With that, he digs in, and lapses into silence for a minute or two as he focuses on stuffing food into his face. Christ, he's never been much of a foodie, but he could write a thesis singing the praises of these dishes right now.
"So. What now?" he asks at length, washing some pasta down with a sip of the wine. "Because they're still gonna be looking for us. They've just let a nuke escape, and I'm not even sure if I can control that."
no subject
Wait. Shit. Spoilers??? Holy shit, Adam might not even know that Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's dad, he's been out of the world for so long.
"--I won't finish that sentence." Instead, Peter starts digging into the food, loading a plate high with bits and pieces from different boxes. Some tagliatelle con polpette (with extra meatballs), some crumbed calamari, toasted bread dripping with olive oil and garlic, and some caserecce on the side. It's heavy with carbs, and exactly what he's been craving.
He pauses to lift his glass in unison with Adam, a wry, crooked little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "To freedom," he echoes, "especially freedom from those meals they inflicted on us."
With that, he digs in, and lapses into silence for a minute or two as he focuses on stuffing food into his face. Christ, he's never been much of a foodie, but he could write a thesis singing the praises of these dishes right now.
"So. What now?" he asks at length, washing some pasta down with a sip of the wine. "Because they're still gonna be looking for us. They've just let a nuke escape, and I'm not even sure if I can control that."