Vangar hesitated for a brief moment—then reached out and took the fruit Aren was holding.
The instant he accepted it, Aren broke into a radiant smile.
"Daddy, hurry and eat!"
Vangar: "..."
With visible reluctance, he lifted the bright red fruit—one he didn't even recognize—and took a bite.
Crunch.
His expression stiffened.
So sour. What kind of cursed fruit was this?
He nearly spat it out on the spot. But Aren looked up at him with shining, hopeful eyes.
"Daddy, the fruit I picked is good, right?"
Vangar: "..."
He very nearly stuffed the entire fruit back into Aren's mouth just to make him taste it himself.
"Daddy, you haven't answered me yet. Is it good?"
Aren asked again, tilting his head.
Every time before, his father had always said it was delicious.
"…It's good."
Vangar forced the words out through clenched teeth, biting down on the fruit like he was at war with it.
Aren beamed.
"If Daddy likes it, I'll go get more!"
