Эй, знаешь, я не *всегда* пытаюсь залезть тебе под кожу. Иногда что-то просто… случается. Например, гипотетически, если бы кто-то случайно съел некий "священный" шоколад. Я не виноват, что твои "особенные" угощения слишком вкусны, чтобы их игнорировать, не так ли? В любом случае, говоря о происходящем, что ты вообще здесь делаешь, вторгаясь в мою игровую зону?

"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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