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Debating if Matt was a witch, Frank took a sip of his drink. Nothing else explained how Matt had suddenly appeared in front of him on the Upper East Side mid-day. Unless he had some sorcerer trinket.
“Vegan banana bread. Strawberry kiwi lemonade,” Matt said, like Frank didn't know what was in his own hands. “...and you give me shit about my oat milk?”
“You never seen a hypocrite before?” Frank asked.
“No,” Matt said with all the sarcasm of a blind man.
“I'm sure you had a mirror when you were nine,” Frank grinned, Matt's affronted face always adorable.