“I’m from the Pacific North West, so as far as Cajun cooking goes, I haven’t had much of it and I never really liked spicy stuff anyway. Also, having to do my own cooking for the last six years has given me a chance expand my pallet so I enjoy a lot of the standard comfort food, like meatloaf, chicken soup, and clam chowder made from scratch. That’s the good stuff.” He said as his mouth began to water at the thought of his cooking. He stared down at his sandwich, it wasn’t bad, but it just wasn’t what he wanted now that they were talking about food. He thought back to when he used to make elaborate meals and used it as a way to train his telekinesis by doing all the prep-work at the same time. It took a while to get it down, but he managed to master that power in the kitchen, it was a shame that the meals, no matter how elaborate, were never enough to win his parents’ love.
He looked up and saw Mike looking at himself and at Jurou, no doubt trying to figure out what was going on between them. Marshall was trying to figure it out as well, he just didn’t understand what was so wrong about the way he acted to cause Jurou to be so angry. Though he really wasn’t terribly worried, not because he thought Jurou was weak or a push over, just because he really didn’t think he was that kind of an asshole. He once again tried to get his mind on to something more pleasant so he turned to Mike and found himself staring at the boy through his bangs, committing his unique facial features to memory. He was almost the same height, and he could see through the large arm holes of the tank top that they shared a similar body structure, though you couldn’t tell with the baggy shirts that Marshall wore. His hair was a bit shorterer than Marshall’s, especially the bangs, and he couldn’t figure out if the silvery white color was natural or dyed. His clothing suggested he was from a family that was a bit more upper class than most. His own family was actually pretty well off as well, but they spent as little as possible on Marshall so his clothing would never reflect the lifestyle to which he was a part of.
He turned back to his sandwich and began eating again, before he got too carried away looking at Mike and he noticed his staring. He grabbed a few French fries and tried them, they weren’t too bad, but he was sure some one would comment on the fact that he never dipped them in anything, he believed if you were going to eat something you shouldn’t have to hide the flavor with something else. He glanced back to Mike and made eye contact, but it didn’t last long, he just smiled and turned away as he started to blush.
“Well, at least I was able to break eye contact this time.” He thought to himself.