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Even though I don't remember most of the details.
He runs his fingers through my hair.
I sink into his chest.
I want, so badly, to collapse in his arms.
To be able to trust him with all the ugly thoughts in my head.
With the secrets I don't share with anyone.
But with our looming expiration date…
I don't know what I'm doing later, but right now, I want to be in his arms.
I soak in every ounce of comfort he can give me.
I feel naked when I unwrap myself from Joel's arms. But I still manage to finish putting together dinner.
We take our food to the couch. I sit, cross-legged, pushing my shrimp around my plate. I'm not hungry anymore.
Too much is happening too fast.
My head is spinning.
Joel isn't lacking for appetite. He eats with greedy bites. It's not exactly messy, but it's certainly not dainty either.
He swallows, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and looks to me. "This is fucking good."
"Yeah?"
"Great even." He motions to my fork try it.
"I'm not hungry anymore."
"Try it anyway."
I did make this meal. I should at least taste it. I stab a shrimp and a broccoli floret and use them to scoop rice.
The shrimp is a little overcooked, but the broccoli is perfect and it's bursting with flavors of garlic, lime, ginger, and fish sauce.
I chew, swallow, dab my lip corners with a paper towel (Joel doesn't have cloth napkins).
His eyes meet mine. He raises a brow. Well?
"It's good."
"Only good?"
"It's great, considering my limited options."
"It's great."
I shake my head.
He nods.
I take another bite. To test these claims. Then another. Fuck. I guess I am hungry.
