"You've been quiet," he says suddenly.
I blink, realizing I've been staring.
"I'm eating."
"You usually do both."
"I was thinking."
"That's usually concerning."
I narrow my eyes.
"You're annoying."
"And yet," he says smoothly, "you keep following me."
I hate how easily he says that and hate even more that I don't have an immediate comeback. So instead….i take another bite because silence feels safer.
He notices and though he doesn't say it….i know he's amused. Which is deeply irritating.
After another moment, I glance at him again.
"You really work this much every night?"
"Most."
"That sounds miserable."
"It's necessary."
I study him for a second.
"Do you ever stop?"
He pauses slightly then looks at me.
"Rarely."
Something about that answer feels heavier than it should, like there's more there but for once….i don't push. Instead, I just nod slowly and return to my meal and somehow….
