He eats another meatball, bristling when Rath shoves in beside him, snatching one from the plate. “Fuck off,” Tristian says, eyes narrowing as Rath shoves it in his mouth. “These are for me.” Primly, I tell Rath, “They’re vegan and gluten-free.” He freezes, catching the meatball into a palm when he spits it out. “Gross.”
