Habits - Ch. 2"There is a space between man's imagination and man's attainment that may only be traversed by his longing."More Like This
― Kahlil Gibran, Sand and Foam
A large skillet sat atop a low-burning flame over the stove as Smithers piled various ingredients into his arms, cradling eggs and other breakfast goodies. His mind was frazzled as he had slept in, leaving the daggers of Burns' stares lodged in his body. He tried to concentrate on the task at hand, those piercing black eyes tearing him to shreds, glaring at him with impatience and disappointment.
Burns' hands were clasped on the tabletop, fingers laced around one another. The empty plate and arrangement of knives and forks before him only made him that much more annoyed. He fussed with one of the forks for a moment, setting it back in its proper place with a heavy sigh.
"You slept awfully late, Smithers," he hissed with an arched brow, pressing the issue. The index fingers of each hand tucked under his chin as his ey