The waiter placed a folded menu between them, and Thalia's eyes immediately widened at the endless list of dishes she could barely pronounce.
Vicious noticed her expression and chuckled softly. "Don't worry, I'll guide you through it. This city doesn't only have history it has flavour."
She smirked. "So, you're a tour guide and a food expert now?"
"Of course," he replied smoothly. "You're in capable hands."
He pointed to the first item on the menu. "This," he began, "is enchiladas verdes — soft corn tortillas filled with chicken and cheese, bathed in green chili sauce and topped with sour cream. It's one of the simplest but most comforting meals you'll ever taste."
Thalia tilted her head. "Hmm, sounds brave already."
He smiled. "That's only the beginning."
Next, he motioned for the waiter to bring chiles en nogada. When it arrived, Thalia gasped — roasted green chilies stuffed with minced meat, fruit, and spices, covered in creamy walnut sauce and sprinkled with bright red pomegranate seeds.
"It's like… the colours of your flag," she said, admiring it.
Vicious nodded. "Exactly. Green for the chili, white for the sauce, and red for the seeds — it's a proud Mexican dish. Go on, taste it."
He scooped a small bite and held out the fork. Thalia blinked, half teasing, half flustered. "Oh, come on, I can feed myself."
"I know," he said, grin widening, "but where's the fun in that?"
With an exaggerated sigh, she leaned forward and took the bite. Her eyes widened. "Oh wow… that's rich! It's sweet, savoury, creamy all at once."
"Told you," he said smugly, sitting back.
Then came sopa azteca — a deep, comforting tomato-based soup served with strips of fried tortilla, avocado, cheese, and a drizzle of lime.
He placed it before her. "This one's for the soul. It's warm, grounding kind of like a hug in a bowl."
Thalia smiled faintly, her fingers wrapping around the spoon. "It smells heavenly."
"Try it," he urged.
She took a spoonful and sighed softly. "Oh, that's… that's perfect. I could drink this forever."
"Good. Then I'm not the only reason your evening's perfect," he teased.
She laughed, nearly choking on her soup. "You really don't know when to stop, do you?"
"Not when I'm enjoying myself," he said with that sly grin of his.
Soon, the next dish arrived — mole poblano, a dark, rich sauce poured over tender chicken, its scent filled with chocolate, chili, and spices.
Thalia blinked. "Chocolate? On chicken?"
"Ah," he said, "that's the magic of Mexico. Sweet meets spice. It's ancient ,a recipe passed down for centuries. Every spoonful tells a story."
She took a small bite, and her eyes widened again. "Oh… that's unexpectedly good."
Vicious leaned closer. "See? You doubt me too much."
"I have to," she retorted, laughing. "You're too confident for your own good."
The fifth and final dish came — tamales, wrapped in corn husks and steamed. He unwrapped one slowly, letting the aroma escape. "Corn dough, stuffed with seasoned meat and spices. It's tradition. Every family in Mexico has their own way of making it."
He broke off a piece and offered it. "Last one, I promise."
She stared at him with mock suspicion. "You said that two dishes ago."
"Then call it tradition," he said, chuckling.
Thalia gave in, took the bite, and smiled. "It's soft… but the flavour just melts in."
"Exactly," he said, watching her with quiet amusement. "Simple, but unforgettable."
She set her fork down and leaned back, sighing. "You know… you really make this whole tour thing sound like an art."
He tilted his head slightly, his tone dropping low. "Maybe because the art isn't the food, Thalia… maybe it's you."
Her breath caught off guard, and she looked away quickly, pretending to rearrange her napkin. "You're impossible."
He chuckled softly, eyes still fixed on her. "Maybe. But for the first time… I think I like impossible."
The waiter soon returned with dessert — flan napolitano glistening under caramel glaze. They shared it, laughing over who took the larger bite, until even the silence between them felt sweet.
Outside, the lanterns flickered like tiny stars, and the streets hummed softly with life.
Thalia smiled as they walked out together. "You were right," she said quietly. "This city doesn't just have history and taste… it has heart."
He glanced at her, a faint warmth in his voice. "And somehow, tonight, it feels like mine's part of it."
She glanced at him sharply, but before she could say anything, he smiled and looked away leaving her to wonder what exactly he meant.
He grinned, letting her redirect the moment. "Everything. But you have to try enchiladas mineras — they're the city's signature dish."
When the food arrived, Thalia couldn't help but stare. The aroma alone was irresistible. "It looks amazing," she said, already picking up her fork.
Vicious smirked. "Careful. You might end up liking it more than my company."
She gave him a playful glare. "Don't tempt me to confirm that."
They both laughed, the kind of laughter that comes easily when tension begins to fade. Between bites and quiet conversation, Thalia began to relax more than she had all day.
He watched her for a while how she spoke with her hands when describing something, how her eyes lit up when she talked about her travels, and how the camera never left her side.
"Do you always carry it like that?" he asked, gesturing at the camera resting on the table.
She smiled. "I guess I like holding on to beautiful things even if it's just through pictures. They remind me that the world isn't always as harsh as it seems."
"That's a good way to see it," he said softly. "You find beauty even where others don't bother to look."
"Maybe that's because I've seen the other side of things," she replied. "And once you've been through the dark, light becomes something you crave."
For a moment, silence settled between them not uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken understanding.
Then, Vicious smiled again, this time with his usual teasing tone. "So, does that mean I'm part of your collection of beautiful things?"
She burst into laughter. "Oh, you wish! You'd need a lot more charm to make it into that gallery."
"Challenge accepted," he said, raising his glass with mock solemnity.
Thalia shook her head, laughing again. "You're impossible."
"Maybe," he said, still smiling. "But at least I'm entertaining."
She looked at him, her expression softening. "Yeah… you are."
As the evening went on, the waiter brought dessert flan topped with caramel sauce. They shared it between quiet giggles and lingering glances. Outside, the city lights glowed brighter, and somewhere in the distance, a bell tower chimed.
By the time they left, the night air had turned cool. The streets shimmered under lanterns and music floated from nearby bars. Thalia wrapped her arms around herself, smiling faintly.
"That was… really nice," she said.
Vicious nodded. "Good food, good company. I'd say it was perfect."
She tilted her head. "You do realise that's another compliment, right?"
He smirked. "Then I suppose I'm consistent."