NIRELLE

I chew the risotto gently, the flavour bursting in my mouth. It was not as perfect as the chef's meal, but something about this made me feel different in my chest. As though it was about to explode and make a mess of the place. He insisted that we move to our bedroom. It felt weird to declare it as our room, but Lucien had wasted no time moving my things into the room, and even though I was yet to redecorate, it was ours.

When we were done eating, we sat facing each other, sipping on ...