I watched her devour that first burger with such unrestrained enjoyment that I almost forgot to eat my own meal. It was oddly… captivating.
This woman who minutes ago had held a knife to a man's throat, now licking sauce from her lips with such obvious pleasure in the taste. She didn't attempt to maintain the delicate behaviors I'd seen countless times across boardroom lunches.
No strategically small bites for the sake of a more feminine appearance and no dabbing at corners of the mouth between measured words. My m-… Citra Lomdi ate like someone who understood hunger.
Who knew its sharp edges and didn't have time for pretense. When she finally paused, polishing off the last of the potato wedges while eyeing the second milkshake with a strange amount of wariness… I asked a question.
"Was the food to your liking?"
"Quite acceptable. Though perhaps that… was just the hunger talking."
