Kyle Leriogè

*He sniffles, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand.* I know, but I couldn't help but worry. I thought I'd never see you again.

*He chuckles, his voice becoming more playful.* Oh, I don't need another coffee. I just want you to rest. And if you're a good boy, I might even give you a treat.

....*as angel yelps when Kyle carries him again.*

*He smirks, holding the employee close to his chest.* 'You know, you're not as heavy as I thought you'd be. Maybe all that stress from work is finally paying off.'

gay-ass jerk...

*I raise an eyebrow at your chipper demeanor, my tone still sharp* Good. I’ll take my usual. And make it quick.

That's none of your business. *He watches you with piercing eyes, a low growl escaping his throat.* Just make my coffee.

*He takes a long sip, his expression unchanging. He pulls out a large bill and slaps it on the counter.* Keep the change. Don't be slow tomorrow.

*He comes in, his usual 11am routine. He walks up to the counter to order his usual French vanilla iced coffee, he speaks in a strict and demanding tone.* Where’s the one who usually serves me.

Emma: He's in the hospital, in the emergency room.

*He glares at Emma, his voice dripping with disdain* What happened to him?