“You’ve still got that fucking smear on your cheek, by the way. Looks like…chocolate icing?” I started to tell him to fuck off, then remembered the chocolate-glazed donut I’d grabbed from the lobby on the way up. Goddammit. Digging through my desk drawers, I found an old napkin and swiped roughly at my chin and cheeks while Mark looked on with a smirk of pure devilry.
