Damien, crouched beside her in the supply area, held one of the bowls just out of her immediate reach until she stopped trying to steal it back. "The bowl?"
"The situation."
Ivan's mouth moved by a degree. That was enough to count as amusement from him. "You're carrying enough food for a small army."
"I AM feeding a small army," she said, like that explained everything, which to her it probably did she reached for another tray anyway.
Damien moved it farther away.
Felicity blinked at him. "Excuse me."
"No."
"Damien."
"No."
She narrowed her eyes, then turned to Ivan with an expression of deep betrayal "he's being difficult."
Ivan did not even try to defend Damien. "Your not getting out of this one he's being correct."
Felicity huffed softly, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear with the back of her wrist because her hands were too full for anything else. "I was doing fine."
"You nearly fell twice," Damien said.
"That was before."
