The food was better than I expected.
Not just good, but thoughtfully good. Warm bread torn by hand, soft cheese that melted on my tongue, roasted vegetables glazed with something sweet and fragrant, and a small dish of fruit that tasted like summer even in the cool night air.
We sat on the blanket beneath the lanterns, close enough that our shoulders brushed every so often. Each time it happened, I pretended not to notice. Each time, my heart betrayed me anyway by doing even more flips, his face was just so blinding, my heart couldn't resist.
[Of course it wouldn't host.] Nero said in a teasing tone.
Maribel, of course, noticed everything.
"So," she said lightly, reaching for another piece of bread, "this is officially the most perfect way to apologize that I have ever been part of."
Elias huffed a quiet laugh. "You approved it."
"I approved logistics," she replied cheerfully. "The atmosphere was your doing."
