A delicate dinner

Alisha's movements were fluid and graceful as she exited the kitchen, the warm glow of the kitchen lights casting a soft halo around her. The tray she carried was laden with a tantalizing treasure: a heaping portion of basmati stir-fried rice, the fluffy grains gently coated in golden oil, speckled with colorful vegetables and the fragrance of sizzling spices.

The sweet, earthy aroma wafted through the air, dancing in the room like a siren call, making it nearly impossible to ignore. The rice seemed to shimmer under the light, each grain glistening as if it had been kissed by the sun.

With a gentle, practiced motion, Alisha placed the tray before Zeriel, whose sharp gaze had already lifted from the edge of the table to follow her every movement.

His dark eyes reflected the soft warmth of the room, and the slight curve of his lips suggested a quiet appreciation. He had been waiting, silently, for her presence—though not for the food.