Wait a minute!
What did she just do?!
She fed Harry Hunter with the chopsticks she used herself!
And then she ate a shrimp with the chopsticks Harry had used!
Isn't that just...
Isabella Weaver looked at the tip of the chopsticks, her cheeks no longer pink but tomato red.
Harry sat across from her, watching her beautiful, delicate face change color with great interest, the urge to hug her growing stronger.
He wondered if she kept blushing, would her face get hot enough to cook shrimp.
"Why don't you serve me, I still want to eat."
His calm voice finally eased Isabella's embarrassment a bit, and she whispered, "You can serve yourself, I need to eat too."
"Sigh, people these days, don't understand reciprocity. I treated you to dinner, even peeled the shrimp, and now I don't want to move, and you won't even feed me a little, sigh!"
Harry shook his head, sighing lightly, with a somewhat hurt look in his eyes.
