Francisco’s lips curled into a faint smile as he tapped his fingers lightly on the table, eyes fixed on Hazel.

“You look beautiful in blue,” he said.

Hazel swallowed her bite and pressed her lips together, clearly growing tired of the conversation. More than anything, she just wanted to leave.

“Thank you, sir, but I don’t like blue,” she replied, her tone flat.

“Why?” Francisco tilted his head, genuinely curious.

“Because it doesn’t feel like me.”

He took a slow ...