"What happened, Kael, isn't the food tasty? Why are you poking it?"
Freya's voice cut through the silent Haven, warm but laced with concern, her blue eyes narrowing as she leaned across the dining table.
Her damp platinum-cyan hair hung loose, shimmering under the soft glow of the overhead bulb, her cyan t-shirt clinging to her curves, navy blue pants fitted her perfectly.
Kael blinked, his hazel eyes snapping from the steak he'd been nudging with his fork, his dark tee and jeans rumpled from a day of chaos. His grin was faint but warm, a flicker of appreciation breaking through his haze.
"No, it's tasty," he said, cutting a piece and chewing, the rich flavors grounding him, a small comfort in his storm. "Really good, Freya. I can feel it melt in my mouth like butter."
Her lips curved, pride flashing in her blue eyes, but her gaze sharpened, catching the dullness in his slumped shoulders.
