Page 65 of Caelum

I’d known some weird ass motherfuckers in my time.

Then, a thought occurred to me. “Have you tried pizza yet?”

She shook her head. “No. I was going to today but Nestor said that I’d prefer the steak. And he wasn’t wrong.”

Her grin lit me up inside. I cleared my throat and mumbled, “Well, we need to rectify this.” Heading over to the fridge, I shuffled up beside her and reached into the regular-sized refrigerator that the staff stored the leftovers in for the kids to eat outside of mealtimes.

Seeing some pizza left behind, I almost purred.

“You like it a lot, don’t you?” she asked, her tone quizzical.

“How could you tell?” I grinned at her.

“That grin and the manic gleam in your eye,” she teased, elbowing me gently in the side.

Snorting out a laugh, I told her, “It’s my favorite food.”

“Then teach me why it is.”

Shooting her another grin, I grabbed the plate that had six slices on it. Ipicked up a bottle of ketchup, too, and murmured, “So, I actually prefer pizza cold.”

“Is it supposed to be cold?”

“No. You’re supposed to eat it warm.”

She considered that a second then replied, “Okay. I’ll try it cold first, and then if I don’t like it, I’ll have a peanut butter sandwich.”

“Or we could just heat it up,” I remarked, confused.

She shook her head. “I can’t use the microwave.”

I had to hide my smile. “I can. I’ll teach you?” I offered.

“Eren tried.”

“And failed?” At her nod, I murmured, “I’ll show you. Don’t worry.”

Though she was biting her bottom lip, when she smiled at me, it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds—and holy fuck, I was turning into some kind of greeting card exec thinking shit like that, but it was true.

Since gym, I’d been in a fucked-up mood. Reed’s double black eyes had pissed me off to no end, especially when he’d told me that Eve had puked during training.

I’d been keeping an eye on her in the gym, and I had no idea why Coach was pushing her so hard. Just knew that he was and I didn’t like it.

My intention had been to binge eat pizza and see if there was any beer I could scrounge when I’d come down here. Now? I was glad I had because it meant I got to see her some more.

As I added some extra salt and pepper to the pizza, I told her, “Take a bite without anything else on it.” I gave her the slice, watching as she studied the bread as though the cure for cancer were written into the cold cheese.

Dubious, she frowned at it then took a bite. Her eyes widened as she chewed then she hummed after she swallowed—that was a sight I wasn’t going to forget easily. “Wow, that’s really good.”

I grinned at her. “Now try with ketchup.” I squeezed some on, watched her eat it, and waited for her opinion.

“I prefer that.” Her eyes sparkled. “This is better than peanut butter.”

Laughing, I raised my fist. When she eyed it, I murmured, “Fist bump time.”

“Fist bump?”

“Raise your hand like mine.” When she complied, I gently bumped mine into hers. “Fist bump.”

---