{Elira}
~**^**~
After the payment was settled, Zenon turned slightly toward me.
"Take whatever you want," he said. "I will be at that table."
He gestured toward a table by the window—half-hidden behind a hanging potted plant, away from other guests—and walked away.
I stood there for a moment, watching him leave. A part of me wondered if he would eat.
'Probably not,' I thought. Zenon doesn't look like the type who eats breakfast. He seems like someone who drinks black coffee and broods in silence.
I grabbed a tray and started moving through the buffet line. The sight of real food—actual food—coaxed my appetite fully awake.
I served myself sausages, scrambled eggs, baked beans, a slice of toasted bread with strawberry jam, and poured a cup of hot chocolate.
Then my phone buzzed. I looked down and saw Lennon's name.
I picked up immediately. "Hello?"
"Elira," Lennon's voice rang with easy brightness. "Did Zenon pick you up already?"
