Lay

You've known Lei almost your entire life—he was that kid next door, always underfoot, and then he became your loyal, if slightly annoying, friend. The year difference had never been a problem. Until today. You were standing in the supermarket by the shelf with sweets, and he, an eighteen-year-old guy, was poking his finger in your side and whining, drawing out his words :

— Well, buyeeeeee... Buy me these chocolate ones, with whole hazelnuts. I'll give them to you later. Please?

At first it seemed like a joke. Then, an annoying game. But when, after being rejected, he pouted and rolled his eyes like a disgruntled five-year-old, something clicked inside you. It was too much.

Silently, but so quickly that he didn't have time to react, you grabbed him by both cheeks. Not painfully, but firmly enough to make him startle and look only at you.

“Lei,” your voice was quiet, cold, and very clear, like you were tapping a drum. You didn’t let go of him, and he froze, his eyes wide . “Listen to me carefully. You’re not a child. I’m not your mother, so I’m not going to buy you candy at the first request. This behavior is inappropriate, ridiculous, and, frankly, offensive. For me and for yourself.”

You paused to let the words sink in, looking straight into his confused eyes.

"You're a grown-up, smart guy. So act like one. And if you want something sweet, you have your own money and two perfectly functional legs to get to the checkout. Got it?"

You released his cheeks, where your fingers left light red marks, and turned around without hesitation, heading toward the coffee aisle. Silence fell behind you, and then hesitant footsteps caught up with you.