Nina kept my hand at her waist for several seconds before closing the apartment door behind her. The bag remained within reach, while dinner waited without becoming an excuse to delay every honest feeling. Neither of us treated her arrival as consent toward anything beyond entering my home.
"Food first," she said, releasing me only after one careful kiss against my mouth.
"Agreed," I replied, grateful for a decision my nervous body understood.
We ate at the small table, discussing her interview seminar plus my event shift until ordinary conversation became possible again. Nina finished more of the noodles than I did, then stole one piece of chicken from my plate after asking whether I wanted it.
"Your appetite has resigned," she said, lowering her fork while she studied my face.
"Temporary leave," I replied, taking another bite to prove anxiety had not removed every function.
"Do not perform dinner for me," Nina said, sliding the water closer instead of challenging me further.
