. . .
"Your Valentines Day chocolate," he said, "Can you make it for me?"
For several seconds, they both stared into each other's eyes like forming a different kind of connection. Zeirenne stopped eating--suddenly she felt full from having all the butterflies in the world fluttering inside her stomach. His words were not even romantic or cheesy, but hearing them made her feel a sense of belonging. Making her feel like finding something she'd lost from a long time ago.
Him.
The missing piece that carved a big hole in her entirety was him. He was the unfillable void no one could fill in.
"You stopped making them six years ago, right?" he said, "Because there was one piece of chocolate you couldn't send. The chocolates for me."
Zeirenne set her fork down before nodding. "Well yes... it felt odd leaving one bar behind so I decided to keep all the chocolates to myself. They were delicious so I ate them all."
