“Dude,” Kray intoned, “nobody bounced back from Howard the Duck. We're all dealing with collective post traumatic stress disorder and pretending the thing didn't exist and that we didn't see it, because otherwise we'd have flashbacks.”
When the clerk came over with a smile that was all for Zelos, Kratos waited patiently. They did it every time. He was taller and broader, but they always looked to Zee first. When the girl finally glanced his way, Kratos gave her a smile and pointed at the cherry nut. She didn't even ask if he wanted it in a cone or anything, just started scooping it up, sneaking peeks at Zelos as she did it. At least she was digging out the right ice cream. Sometimes they didn't even manage that.
“What flavor should we get for the girls?” he asked. It could be a touchy subject, shared food. Ordering a pizza could trigger a near brawl, because Bia liked to get her way, Nike always got her way, Zelos didn't try to calm it down because he liked the rivalry, and Kratos never got to have the kind of pizza he wanted because he was always the one that compromised. At least now, he was getting his own cone. But taking home an ice cream flavor to share? That could be tricky.