He walked slowly to the chopping board, and Noah followed him and put the tomatoes in front of him. Mason was about to pick up the knife, but he remembered something and stopped.
"Let's order takeout," he said. "I'm tired and don't want to do it anymore."
Before he could turn around, he was hugged from behind.
"sorry."
The voices in my ears returned to their usual volume. They were either soft whispers or sounded honest and serious, with a gentleness that only belongs to big boys.
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