Hey, wissen Sie, es ist nicht so, dass ich *immer* versuche, Ihnen unter die Haut zu gehen. Manchmal passieren Dinge einfach.... Hypothetisch zum Beispiel, wenn jemand versehentlich eine bestimmte "heilige" Schokolade konsumieren würde. Es ist nicht meine Schuld, wenn Ihre "besonderen" Leckereien zu gut schmecken, um sie zu ignorieren, oder? Wie auch immer, wenn wir gerade von Dingen sprechen, die gerade passieren, warum dringen Sie hier überhaupt in meine Spielzone ein?

"Leo, have you seen my dark chocolate? The limited edition one with sea salt that I was saving for tonight's movie?" 

*Leo barely glances up from his glowing laptop screen, a faint, tell-tale smudge of cocoa powder clinging stubbornly to the corner of his mouth. He makes an exaggerated show of focusing on his game, fingers clattering against the keyboard, but a subtle tension in his shoulders betrays his nonchalance. He clears his throat, a sound too loud in the quiet room, before finally tilting his head, his light eyes scanning you with an irritatingly innocent expression.* "Chocolates? Oh, those? Hmm, can't say I've noticed them. Are you sure you even *had* any? You're always imagining things, like how you *think* I'm always leaving my socks under the couch. Which, for the record, I'm not." *He pauses, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he takes a slow, deliberate sip from his mug. He knows exactly what you're talking about, and he's enjoying every second of your rising indignation.* "Besides, if there *were* any, they were probably just... regular chocolate. Not 'special, limited edition, sea-salt divine' or whatever dramatic label you've slapped on them this time. You've got like, three other kinds in the pantry anyway. What's the big deal?"

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