Berries and Greed

“Good. I’m just grabbing your iced tea, then I’ll be on my way home.”

The camera shifted as he opened a refrigerator and reached in, angling down a little to show me the prominent bump in his throat. I stared at it. My tongue pressed against the back of my teeth as an entirely inappropriate image popped into my head—of me fisting Greid’s long hair and yanking his head back, exposing his throat so I could nibble on that bump and feel it bob against my teeth with his moans.

I went hot all over, blinking rapidly when I realised Greid had looked back down at the camera and was staring at me expectantly.

“What?” I said numbly. “Sorry, I didn’t…”

“I said I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Oh!” My laugh was strained. “Yep, see you soon. Bye!” I blurted it too loudly and hung up.

“Beryl,” Greid said, the moment I stepped back into the living room after going upstairs to change my pad. “What is this?”

He was staring down disdainfully into a big plastic bowl with a clear lid. I’d heard the doorbell go while I was coming back downstairs, and he’d already unpacked the containers of food.

I frowned, walking over to the couch. “What is it? Did they get our order wrong?”

When I reached him and saw what was in the bowl, I relaxed and chuckled. “Oh. No, that’s mine.”

“It’s salad.”

“Yeah.” I settled back under my blankets beside him on the couch.

“Is it a side for something?” He glanced over the other containers. “Like the garnish you don’t eat at restaurants?”

“A side?” I choked out, gesturing at the bowl. “Greid, it’s a huge chicken Caesar salad. That’s a main meal. Look at it!”

“It’s salad.” He held the bowl out to me, casting it one final look of mild disgust. “Enjoy.”

“Do demiurgus not really need to eat vegetables?” I asked with interest as I watched him peel the lid off his enormous portion of fettuccine alfredo.

He grunted. “We do. I should probably eat them more. According to my mom, anyway. But…” He gestured at his pasta as if that explained everything.

I laughed. “I get it.”

After years of living on a strictly controlled diet, I still wasn’t over the novelty of being able to eat whatever I wanted.

Settling back with my bowl, I watched Greid grab a fork and slump back on the couch, already twirling up his first big bite of pasta. His first enormous bite. Those smile lines cracked open, showing me every single one of his sharp back teeth as he opened his mouth wide and stuffed it in.

My lips twitched. “Good?”

“Mhmm.” He chewed, eyes fixed on the TV.

Deciding to leave him alone to enjoy his dinner, I started eating my salad. We were on a real Gloom Falls kick now. Even though Greid had seen it before—probably several times—he still paid rapt attention and reacted to all the ridiculous things that happened on the show. Gasping and nudging me when Ashi slapped Huna. Snorting in disbelief when Golir told his lifemate Pana that he was still at work when he was really next door in Ashi’s bed. Going “ooooooooh” in a foreboding tone when Loty discussed her lifemate Marish’s life insurance policy with Huna.

He was so ridiculously cute.

I’d already noticed that he ordered less food when it was my turn to get dinner, so when he’d passed my phone back after adding his pasta to the order, I’d tacked on some garlic bread for him. But it seemed like the fettuccine alfredo may have actually beaten him, because he didn’t even go for the garlic bread after setting down his empty container.

“You cannot be full yet,” I said. “Unless you secretly ate some snacks on your way home from the store earlier.”

He refused to look at me, appearing very engrossed in the TV. I burst out laughing, leaning to the side until my shoulder rested against his arm.

“Wait, is it because you didn’t smoke before dinner?” I asked. “Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know if the smoke would make you feel ill when you were already feeling shitty.”

I softened, briefly resting my head on his shoulder. “You’re sweet.”

“Nngh,” he mumbled, fingers fiddling restlessly with the blanket over his lap. “How was your gross salad?”

I laughed. “Really good. Want to try a bit?”

He side-eyed me. “No, thank you.”

“Aww, come on.” After setting my bowl down on the coffee table, I fished out the last piece of lettuce, soggy from having sat at the bottom in a puddle of dressing. “Will you try one piece of lettuce?”

“Don’t you dare come near me with that thing, Beryl.”

“Sure you don’t wanna try it?” I held it up in front of him. He tried to bat the dangling piece of lettuce out of my hand, which made me laugh and bring it closer again while making a spooky ghost noise.

“I’m not scared of it!” he griped, wriggling away. “It’s just gross!”

Of course I wasn’t actually going to force him to eat it, but he was laughing as he tried to squirm away from me, so I kept pretending, loving how little wrinkles would appear on the shallow bridge of his flat nose as it scrunched up with his laughter.