My chest tightened at his words. Not used to eating with other people? What kind of meals had he been having all this time, with only Bern around?
"You can eat freely here, Cairo," I said softly, handing him a spoon. "This is your home for the meantime now, remember? You don't have to hold back."
He nodded hesitantly, then took a small sip of the chicken soup. His eyes widened a little, and a genuine smile spread across his face.
"This is really good," he said quietly. "It tastes… warm."
I felt a lump form in my throat at that—warm. He didn't say delicious, he said warm.
Paris grinned, leaning over toward him. "See? Mom's cooking is always the best! Even Egypt can't stop eating."
"Hey!" Egypt protested with a pout. "You're eating more than I am!"
They both started bickering playfully, and Cairo laughed, a soft, genuine sound that instantly filled the small dining area.
I just sat there, watching them, feeling a strange mix of happiness and heartache swell inside me.
