Hey.

Noeul's voice drops low. His usually calm eyes have grown cold and sunken.

The order slip clearly says Toffee Nut 'Frappe.' Not a Toffee Nut Iced Latte.

Are you kidding me right now?

He gives the cup on the counter a sharp flick with his finger. The light brown liquid sloshes, and the sound of clinking ice rings out.

Is this a frappe? Huh? Is it?

Why the hell do I hear ice clinking in a frappe!!

His voice begins to rise steadily.

If you just put ice in the drink, that's just an iced drink. Does that look like a frappe to you?

Right now, I don't want to grind the ice—I want to grind some sense into that head of yours.