Irina sat down across from Astron, her eyes briefly scanning the table before her.
It was… a sight.
Normally, when she ate alone, she didn’t care about presentation. She’d just grab a plate, toss some food onto it, and call it a meal. Most of the time, she’d be watching something—videos, highlights, even just random streams while she mindlessly ate.
But now?
She paused.
The table was neatly set, the food arranged in that effortless, aesthetic way Astron always managed. Nothing extravagant, but clean. Balanced. Like something out of a magazine photo rather than a hastily thrown-together breakfast.
It wasn’t intentional—she was sure Astron wasn’t even thinking about the way he plated the food—but it still looked perfectly put together.
For a brief second, she hesitated.
This… felt different.
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