Snapshot

The door to the booth slid open with its familiar quiet hiss, and Lydia waltzed in, balancing a tray with a dramatic flourish. Her grin was wider than ever, her mischievous eyes practically sparkling as she approached the table.

"Alright, lovebirds," she began, her tone dripping with theatrical delight. "Here's your order to get things started."

She placed the two glasses of water on the table first, her movements almost too precise, like she was setting the stage for something bigger. Then, with a grand gesture, she unveiled the pièce de résistance—a comically oversized milkshake, piled high with whipped cream, sprinkles, and an extra cherry on top. Nestled in the thick frothy drink were two brightly colored straws, angled perfectly for sharing.

Riza froze mid-sip of her water, her wide eyes fixed on the milkshake as if it were a live grenade. I stared too, completely at a loss for words.

"There we go," Lydia said triumphantly, setting the milkshake down in the center of the table. "The ultimate drink for two: the Lovebird Delight. On the house, of course."

Riza's face turned scarlet, and she buried it in her hands. "Lydia!" she groaned, her voice muffled but unmistakably exasperated.

I felt my own face heating up, the ridiculous milkshake an inescapable centerpiece between us. "This… this isn't funny," I muttered, though my voice lacked any real conviction.

"Oh, but it is," Lydia replied, clearly delighted with herself. "You should've seen your faces. Worth every second."

Riza peeked through her fingers, her glare almost as fiery as her cheeks. "Take it back."

"Take it back?" Lydia repeated, her voice feigning offense. "But why? It's perfect. You two can sip and stare dreamily into each other's eyes. Isn't that what you're here for?"

I groaned, shaking my head. "You're impossible."

"Thank you," Lydia replied with a mock bow. She stepped back toward the door, her smirk never wavering. "Enjoy your drinks! And hey, don't let it melt—it's best shared while it's still frosty." With that, she spun on her heel and exited, leaving us alone with the absurd monstrosity.

Riza let out another groan, her hands dropping to the table as she leaned back in defeat. "I hate her," she muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched as if she was fighting back a smile.

I couldn't help but chuckle, shaking my head as I leaned back in my seat. "You know she's going to keep this up every time we're here."

"Don't remind me," Riza said, finally looking at the milkshake with a mixture of resignation and disbelief. After a moment, she reached out and flicked one of the straws lightly, her lips quirking into a reluctant grin. "At least it looks good."

I laughed, grabbing the other straw. "Might as well try it. No point letting her win completely."

We both leaned in hesitantly, our eyes meeting briefly as we took the first tentative sip. The milkshake was delicious—rich and creamy—but the awkwardness between us was almost palpable.

Riza pulled back first, wiping a stray bit of whipped cream from her lip. "I swear, one day, we're getting even with her."

"Oh, definitely," I said, grinning. "But for now, let's just survive this milkshake."

The shared laughter that followed was enough to ease the tension, even if the milkshake and Lydia's antics remained the undeniable highlights of the night.

The awkwardness of the oversized milkshake had started to fade as Riza and I settled into the ridiculousness of it all. We both leaned forward at the same time, our straws barely a few inches apart as we took simultaneous sips. The milkshake was undeniably good—sweet, creamy, and just the distraction we needed.

Then, without warning, a sudden, blinding flash lit up the booth.

We both froze, straws still in our mouths, our eyes darting toward the source of the light. Standing in the doorway, her grin so wide it could've powered the ship, was Lydia, holding up her datapad triumphantly.

"Oh. My. God," she said, her voice brimming with glee. "This… this is GOLD!"

Riza and I pulled away from the milkshake so fast we nearly knocked it over. My face was already heating up, and when I glanced at Riza, her cheeks were flushed an even deeper shade of red than before.

"Lydia!" Riza shouted, her voice high and indignant, as she half-stood from her seat. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Lydia ignored her entirely, turning her datapad toward us with an exaggerated flourish to display the photo she'd just taken. "Look at this masterpiece!" she exclaimed, her voice practically squealing with delight. "The lighting, the angle, the pure romance of it all! You two are so adorable!"

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Lydia, delete that. Right now."

"Are you kidding?" she shot back, holding the datapad out of reach as she sauntered over to the table. "This is going straight into my personal collection of shipboard memories. Maybe even the employee gallery if you keep this up."

"Lydia, I swear—" Riza started, but her words were cut off as Lydia set down our plates with a dramatic flourish.

"There you go, lovebirds," she said, ignoring the daggers Riza was glaring at her. "One honey-glazed chicken with garlic mashed potatoes for the princess, and a lovely pasta carbonara for the loverboy."

Riza let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "You're unbelievable."

"Thank you," Lydia said cheerfully, stepping back and crossing her arms as she admired her work. "Honestly, I should start charging for photos like this. It's practically art."

I finally managed to look up, still red-faced but determined to regain some semblance of dignity. "Lydia, you've had your fun. Can we just eat in peace now?"

"Oh, fine," she said with an exaggerated sigh, waving her hand dismissively. "But seriously, you two are the highlight of my shift. Don't let that milkshake go to waste, alright?" She winked before turning on her heel and heading toward the door.

As she reached the doorway, she paused and looked back, her smirk as devilish as ever. "And don't worry—I'll keep this photo safe. For now."

With that, she manually slid the door shut behind her, leaving us alone again.

Riza groaned loudly, dropping her head onto the table. "I hate her. So much."

I couldn't help but chuckle, shaking my head as I picked up my fork. "You hate her now, but you're going to laugh about this later. Trust me."

She lifted her head just enough to glare at me, though there was a hint of reluctant amusement in her eyes. "You'd better hope she doesn't show anyone that picture."

"Agreed," I said, grinning as I took a bite of my pasta. "But, hey, at least the food looks great."

Riza sighed, picking up her own fork. "Yeah, it better be, because she's not getting a tip."

The chaos Lydia had left behind slowly faded as Riza and I settled into our meal. The aroma of honey-glazed chicken and rich pasta filled the booth, and the first bites were enough to melt away any lingering tension. Riza closed her eyes as she savored her food, letting out a small, content sigh.

"This is so good," she said, her tone warm and genuine. "I swear, it almost makes up for all of Lydia's antics."

"Almost," I agreed with a chuckle, twirling some pasta onto my fork. "But yeah, this definitely hits the spot."

For a while, we ate in comfortable silence, the earlier embarrassment fading into a memory we'd laugh about later. The clink of utensils and the soft hum of the ship's systems created a soothing backdrop, and I couldn't help but steal glances at Riza. The way she focused on her food, the occasional smile when she took a particularly good bite—it was a kind of quiet joy that was infectious.

"So," I said, breaking the silence, "any ideas for the rest of the day?"

Riza glanced up, her fork pausing mid-air as she considered. "Well, I was thinking… maybe we could hit the observation deck? It's been a while since we just relaxed and stargazed."

I nodded, liking the idea already. "Yeah, that sounds nice. The view's always great this time of day."

She smiled, her eyes brightening. "And after that… maybe we could try the arcade again? I'm still salty about losing that spaceship. Plus, I think I need a rematch with that basketball game."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Never," she said with mock seriousness, pointing her fork at me. "You cheated. I demand redemption."

"Alright, rematch it is," I said, grinning. "And then what? Dinner? Another movie?"

Riza shrugged, leaning back slightly in her seat. "Depends. What do you feel like?"

I pretended to think for a moment, tapping my chin. "Honestly? I wouldn't mind just hanging out in my quarters, maybe playing a game or watching something. Nothing too fancy."

She smiled softly, her gaze flickering down to her plate. "Yeah, that sounds good. We can just take it easy."

The warmth in her voice made my chest feel lighter, and I found myself smiling too. "Sounds like we've got the day planned out then. Stargazing, games, and a quiet night in."

"Perfect," she said, her voice soft but certain.

We finished our meals slowly, savoring every bite and the rare moment of peace. By the time we set our utensils down, the booth felt like our own little world—a bubble of warmth and comfort amidst the vastness of the ship.

"So," I said, reaching for my glass of water, "you ready to lose at the arcade again?"

Riza laughed, a bright, musical sound that made the moment even sweeter. "You wish. I'm taking that spaceship home this time."