Page 112 of Eyes Like Angel

He scoffed in amusement.

“But…who will clean up the estate?”

“I don’t mind cleaning,” he said, propping his elbow, “as long as there’s no nagging in the early morning, someone was nagging so often makes me feel lazy and incompetent, not wanting to do anything afterwards but giving dedication to longer sleep. I love sleeping—not that kind of sleep, I like hugging pillows and snuggled up in a blanket, wall-air freshener scented in a dark bedroom.”

“And that someone nagging is…your mother,” I said with caution.

He swirled, playing with his fresh drink, his listless eyes followed the melted ice. “Yeah.”

Nodded, taking a quick, smallest sip on a crystal-clean glass, taste buds tingled and electrified at a burning—sweet and tangy sensation of Mojito.

Nothing like the red wine or any of the rations I’ve fed in my empty belly.

“So, how was it?” Adrian inclined nearer, elbows propped over the bar table, animated eyes fixed on me.

Nodded, I cleared my throat, unable to spew the right words to describe this unknown substance which has been choking my voice out. “Burning,” I said, choking a little, masking my lips with a sleeve. “Tangy. But…it tastes sweet.”

Coughing, I caught a sight of him chortling, bemused at my reaction. He couldn’t blame me since it’s my first time trying a foreign substance to my taste buds.

Somehow, a relief etched across his placid face, like he has outdone himself on exposing me to try newer things, things that are considered perfectly normal.

And it was a delightful feeling.

He sighed in relief, a genuine smile was evident. “Glad you like it. I was hoping you didn’t hate the drink. I was hoping you’d ask for more.”

Suspicious, I uttered, “What happens if I don’t ask for more?”

He clicked his tongue, his cheeky smile showed. “Then,” Adrian entered the kitchen and position a white box on the bar table. Unsealing the tape, he flipped the top over and unveiled the angel-shaped donuts, encrusted with red-dotted heart on the center. A sweet, powdery scent wafted in my nose as my throat dried. Rubbing my aching belly, I knew why Adrian acquired meto accompany him in an immediate hour. “You’ll settle for these instead.”

Gasping in fright, my fingers itched to grab for a bite.

“Don’t be shy around me. Eat what you like. Grab one,” he coaxed, his body leaned forward as his elbows placed, anticipating.

Shyly, I took another angel-shaped doughnut and fed it to my lips.

A sinful hunger on my lips quenched for a sweet relish, tender doughnut clenched in between my teeth, gorging on soft-powdered bread, smearing over my lower lips. Licking my sweet-glazed powder, she hadn’t realized Adrian’s mouth parted, subconsciously licking his lower lip, eyes fixated at my slight movement, relishing over a sweet perishable. I not once ate anything besides a plain soup and bread devoid in hearty meals. Frail as a feather, but I had a few rations to keep my vigor going. As for the hygiene, I don’t have the ability to share confidence. Not with him.

“This doughnut is delicious!” I faintly gasped in awe, a warm sensation soothed in my empty belly, my hand placed over it. Inside the angel-shaped powder doughnut I have, this one is contained in tender bread, coated in dark red.

“That’s not the only flavor you ate,” he pointed out, and registered the sweet in his opened lips, savoring the delight sweetness coated on his tongue and teeth.

Humming, he made a long well-thought procedure as he chewed. “This one is custard with vanilla.” He outstretched the eaten doughnut at me. “Try it,” he encouraged.

Teeth crunched into soft-baked bread, I chewed. “I like this one, too.”

My finger aimed at the uneaten sweet-filled doughs. “These have others different flavor inside, right?”

Adrian informed other kinds of fillings in the angel-shaped doughnuts.

In pleasantries, he confirmed with a humorous nod, bemused at my little reaction. Normally I’ve been told it’s stupid and useless to react such things in minor details. They couldn’t withstand how responsive I could be, despite being impulsive, told me to stifle it because it weakens the individual and embarrassed others. And as I do, guilt overtook me, like I’m underestimating myself further and strung along their sharp words once they’ve said their last word, taken me across the empty, cold air I don’t wish to embrace.

“Try this one.” Adrian distributed an angel-shaped doughnut, a vanilla-scented powder and glistening honey syrup wafted in my nose, belly was grumbling again.

Adrian motioned his eyes once more, corner of his lips tugged to a smirk.

My mouth watered and munched on the small piece. “Which one did I get?”

“My guess is cranberry? No, wait, I ordered raspberry. Either of those, I knew you liked both.”