“Mm?” Gods, I loved it when he made that noise. I also loved how he held my fingers laced in his. But in that very moment what I loved most was how he was lazily circling his thumb on the inside of my wrist, even if he did it as he drove (seeing as it was my view that it was probably far safer to operate his vehicle with two hands). We were just then heading to his home after an utterly sumptuous dinner, the like I’d never had. Such flavors. Complicated. Rich. Spicy. Decadent. This world seemed rushed. It was loud. It did not smell very good. I found it disconcerting there were only glimpses of nature here and there—along avenues, trees growing up from stone pavements. Although there was great beauty in (some) of the architecture, I was uncertain how I felt about the overall look, sound and smell of the place. But the food was wonderful. And Noc’s company…as ever, there was none better. “On our journey to dinner, you mentioned your father and stepmother,” I noted. “Yeah?”
