Alya grabbed her dinner box from inside the tent, intending to head to the medical team's tent to eat. As soon as she stepped outside, a figure suddenly stood tall before her, Satria, blocking her path.
Alya immediately scowled and shifted to the left. Satria moved to follow her. She shifted to the right, and Satria blocked her again. Alya snorted and shifted to the left a third time.
"Excuse me," Alya hissed coldly, her gaze fixed sharply ahead, unwilling to meet his eyes. "I need to get through."
She received no verbal response, only action. Without a word, Satria snatched the food box Alya was holding in her left hand. Her right hand remained wrapped in thick bandages and supported by a sling.
"Hey! I'm trying to eat!" Alya instinctively pulled back, trying to grab her box.
"How are you going to eat with your hand like that?" Satria asked, his tone flat but demanding.
"I still have my left hand!" Alya retorted sharply.
