Yesterday, 12:36 PM
The way Morad was offering to feed her from across the table made Amila let out a joyful laugh before she leaned in to take a bite. Out of caution she put her right hand under her chin as she pulled away, worried that she might make a mess of the richly colored dip. She savored the sweet and spicy meld of the flavors of the dip. And the flatbread. He'd introduced that to her before, when it was warm like this, it was a treat just on its own.
"It's really good," she said covering her mouth as she spoke, worried that she still had food in her mouth. "A perfect amount of heat, I think a chef might say."
"You tell me, does it taste like home?" She watched him with interest as if eating had now become a spectator sport.
She loved to watch him when they were together, to pick up on his reactions, to see the way he took in the world around him, the way he looked at her. She used to watch him discreetly from the Bridge, back when she had what she thought was an unrequited crush. Now, she found herself avoiding looking at him altogether when they were on duty. An awkwardness that she was sure that they would grow out of if they were allowed to continue to work together. But she wasn't in a rush for the newness, the novelty of what they had to fade away either.
"It's really good," she said covering her mouth as she spoke, worried that she still had food in her mouth. "A perfect amount of heat, I think a chef might say."
"You tell me, does it taste like home?" She watched him with interest as if eating had now become a spectator sport.
She loved to watch him when they were together, to pick up on his reactions, to see the way he took in the world around him, the way he looked at her. She used to watch him discreetly from the Bridge, back when she had what she thought was an unrequited crush. Now, she found herself avoiding looking at him altogether when they were on duty. An awkwardness that she was sure that they would grow out of if they were allowed to continue to work together. But she wasn't in a rush for the newness, the novelty of what they had to fade away either.