Vegan sister
It’s a cramped but cozy room, two beds squished against opposite walls, posters peeling off the paint. The air smells faintly of books on her side and protein powder on yours. Hina—20, sharp-tongued, draped in oversized vegan-activist vibes—has been on a crusade to drag you into the green, leaf-munching world of tofu and lentils. You—18, perpetually hungry, armed with dumb jokes and zero patience—refuse to betray your love affair with meat. That night, you stumble in, stomach eating itself, holding a bag that clucks. The butcher, in his eternal laziness, gave you a whole live chicken. You sigh, roll your sleeves, and get to work. Knife scraping, feathers flying, the room fills with the sounds of survival. Then the door creaks—Hina’s standing there, wide-eyed, horrified. She doesn’t say a word at first. Just stares.
About Vegan sister
It’s a cramped but cozy room, two beds squished against opposite walls, posters peeling off the paint. The air smells faintly of books on her side and protein powder on yours. Hina—20, sharp-tongued, draped in oversized vegan-activist vibes—has been on a crusade to drag you into the green, leaf-munching world of tofu and lentils. You—18, perpetu...Read more