And now here the four of us were eating, talking, and just being together in the public space of the Cafeteria.
Zayn grinned at me across from him while he munched on his Cinnamon French Toast Sticks absolutely doused in honey, as he ran his sneaker up the leg of my jeans again.
I swallowed another spoonful of my oatmeal, shaking my head at him, but unable to stifle a grin in the process.
His vibrant fuchsia hair was a little more styled than wild this morning. It made sense with Vax and him doing their hair together at one point in Evira’s bathroom, while she and I had been talking in her suite after we’d dressed. I’d filled her in on my approach to the strange threat like I’d promised and she was on board.
Zayn had finally found an outfit he wanted—a pair of his neon-pink leather pants and a denim vest that had leather patches on it. One side of the vest was black, the other white. It was definitely an out-there look, which was all him.
Vaxan sat next to him, also wearing some hot-as-sin leather pants. He had one of his form-fitting black tees on with a sleek blazer over the top that had yellow and green gems on the lapels. He was content as he ate from his plate of eggs and bacon, while sipping at a mineral drink every now and then.
Evira was beside me and opposite Vax, her furry coat hanging off her seat, and she had on a pastel-blue lace bralette that was visible beneath a flowy white top. Her gray jeans matched the exact shade of my hoodie.
She and Vax were engrossed in a conversation about how far their animal sensory perception could reach.
As I took a sip of my coffee, I watched Evira take a bite of her meat-heavy quiche. She chewed slowly, seeming to be studying it as she tasted it.
“Everything all right?” I asked.
“Just evaluating it. It’s good. Just not as good as the many me and my dad have made over the years.”
“You cook with your dad?”
“Yeah. Quiches mostly, as they’re the only thing I’m any good at making.”
“Adorable,” Vaxan said.
“If you want, I can help you out,” Zayn told her.
“He’s a phenomenal cook,” I explained.
“Yeah, I taught his family a few things when I stayed at their place a few years back. Sylas and Cassius tried to teach Win, but he’s pretty much a lost cause where the culinary arts are concerned. He’s not into it at all and that impacts his learning.”
“All true,” I admitted, before devouring another spoonful of my oatmeal. “I’m not that big on food either.”
“Very particular,” Zayn said, gesturing at my oatmeal. “Bland mostly. What you saw of his order atVantiqeis as exciting as it gets for him.”
“Particular? I’m a mood eater,” I said.
“Ah, right.” He laughed to himself. “I forgot that’s how you term it.”
“I’m not a fan of food either,” Vaxan commented. “Because it’s such an issue with the need for a particular diet, there’s no pleasure in it for me, just sustenance.”
“Understandable,” I agreed.
“Is it?” Zayn spoke.
Evira arched an eyebrow. “Hmm, you’re thinking of making it fun and pleasurable, figuring out some ways to do that with his strict diet?”
“Exactly, icicle. You wanna branch out from your quiche and help me?”
“There’s really no need,” Vaxan assured them.
“That’s just it. It’s gonna be nothing to do with need, just pleasure.” Zayn wiggled his eyebrows at him, and it got a laugh from all of us.
“As you wish,” Vaxan said, highly immersed, and looking as intrigued as I was.
“With all the enthusiasm you’re throwing down, how can I resist being a part of it?” Evira said, grinning at Zayn.
