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I resist the urge to smile at her absolutely comical expression and open my water. It’s the first time I’ve seen someone with their emotions so out there that it’s become a bit intoxicating.
It’s so entertaining to provoke or rile her up just to see the noticeable change in her face.
We eat in silence for a beat, or more like I eat, then drink water almost at the same time.
Still, I wait for the peaceful phase to end in three, two, andone—
“I thought this would be a date, but apparently, I just set you up with food. Maybe I shouldn’t include anything to eat in the future.”
You shouldn’t cook anything in the future.
But I don’t say that and, instead, move on to the meatballs after I finish the first dish.
Annika’s still holding on to her salad for dear life.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, why do you enjoy food so much? Actually, I don’t know if you really enjoy it or if you just like the act of eating.”
I swallow the mouthful of the equally horrific meatballs and lift my head. “Why are you asking?”
“I want to get to know you better.”
What’s there to know?
Having been acquainted with her personality, I have no doubt she’ll bolt at the first sign of darkness.
She didn’t run from your fucked-up side yesterday. Or the time before that.
I ignore that small voice and mutter, “There’s no need to.”
“Uh, no. That’s not up to you to decide. Although I’m not sure what we are exactly, I am sure we’re something, and the rules say we have to open up to each other. So you might want to tell me or I’ll bug you.”
I raise a brow. “You’ll bug me, huh?”
“To death, mister. You can count on it. I’m nothing short of persistent. In fact, persistent should probably be my middle name.
“Pretty sure it should be brat,” I grumble. She grins and I narrow my eyes. “What?”
“Nothing. I like that you have a sense of humor, as dry as it is.”
“Did you just call me dry, brat?”
She slaps a hand to her chest in pure mock reaction. “Did you just call me a brat?”
“Watch it or I might start counting.”
She purses her lips, and a slight jerk lifts her shoulders. At least the promise of pain has an effect on her.
For now.
I take a sip of water and stare at the buildings in the distance. “There was a time in my childhood when I nearly starved to death. Ever since then, it’s always felt as if there’s a black hole in my stomach that can’t be filled or satiated, so whenever there’s food, I have this need to just…consume it all.”
Her hold weakens around her fork and she stares at me with puppy eyes.
Innocent eyes.
That I’m tempted to fill with tears all over again.
“Are your parents aware of this?”
