Zephyr sat across from Merin in a small, lit room, the scent of cooked meat and hearty dishes filling the air. His eyes were locked onto the food in front of him— a steaming pile of various meats, breads, and side dishes that looked so fresh and inviting that his stomach growled loudly. It felt like the first real meal he'd had in ages, and his mind was already envisioning the satisfying taste of each bite.
But then, his gaze flicked up to Merin, and a deep scowl spread across his face. She was grinning, clearly amused at the conflict playing out in his mind.
"You should eat," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "It's not every day I invite someone to a proper meal."
Zephyr's lips twitched in frustration. "Yeah, I know the drill. You're not gonna pull the same trick you did last time." His voice was low and suspicious.
Merin's smile widened, and she leaned back in her chair, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
