25

We stay in comfortable silence for a while. My eyes taking the decor in his apartment. And my mind recalling how tactical Quinn beat Mr Marcelo like it is something he does. I remember the many times I saw bruises on his knuckles and face. And the time he showed up at my apartment stabbed.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"I trained myself."

"Impressive." I utter.

"I will order pizza is that okay with you?" Quinn asks suddenly untangling from me. Trying to change the subject. Probably there's something he's hiding. There's never anything straightforward or conclusive with him.

My voice is raspy from the stretched silence, so I shake my head and cough. "Pizza is too overrated, do you have any groceries I prefer real food," I answer and my stomach grumbles announcing its starvation.

"No, I don't live here." He says.

"Then whos apartment is this?" I ask worry sipping in.

"Mine. I just don't like living here."

And here I thought I was special for bringing me to his place. Pr