"I got churros." Noah said as he walked in, and I stomped towards him fiercely.
"What the...? I told you to forget about it. Didn't I?" I said, but he dodged my question and said,
"They're freshly made, so they'll taste the best. Since you felt like eating it, you should eat it." He said and walked past me.
I was confused, though. Why go through that trouble?
Churros! Those sweet, crispy, and indulgent Spanish fried dough pastries coated in cinnamon sugar that was everyone's favourite.
They were such tasty treats that I never failed to pick up on my way back from work. I know I said it took an hour to get to a place that sold delicious Churros, but in fact, there was one about twenty minutes from where I lived.
Only, it was right next to my former workplace, and I did not want to go there.
I'd hate bumping into someone familiar, so I gave up on the idea.
Only for Noah to go get them for me, and from the bag's label, he went to the one that was an hour away from here.
