Wordlessly, she passed the meal box to him.
Her fingers brushed against his for the briefest moment, and though the contact was fleeting, Richard felt a strange warmth radiating from her touch.
He opened the box, revealing a neatly arranged meal, tender slices of meat paired with colorful vegetables, and a small, fragrant pastry.
The aroma hit him first, rich and savory, with a hint of something sweet that reminded him of home.
Richard glanced at her, noticing how her gaze was fixed on the fire, distant and unreadable. "Did you prepare this yourself?" he asked, his voice soft, almost tentative.
Ahcehera didn't look at him. "Just eat," she said, her tone clipped, as though she didn't want to engage further.
Richard took a bite, savoring the explosion of flavors that spread across his tongue.
It wasn't just food, it was nourishment, comfort, and perhaps even a small gesture of care, though her demeanor suggested otherwise.
