𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 (EDITING)

𝟒𝟏

emerson

Avery's laughter continued to ring through the air, punctuated by the occasional chuckle from those around us. I felt the warmth of embarrassment coloring my cheeks, a constant reminder of the unexpected turn of events just moments before.

"That was funny," Avery remarked, her laughter subsiding into a playful smile. I couldn't help but hide my face in my hands, hoping to shield myself from the lingering embarrassment. "Not really," I mumbled, my voice muffled by my hands. "It's embarrassing," I admitted, peering through my fingers as I lowered my hands from my face.

Avery's gaze softened her expression one of understanding and empathy. "You still look flustered, princess," she observed, her tone gentle as she looked down at me.

I straightened up in my seat, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. "Do I?" I questioned, feeling the heat of embarrassment still radiating from my cheeks. I tried to fan myself with my hands, hoping to dispel some of the warmth that seemed to linger stubbornly.

The table was adorned with a colorful array of dishes, each one tempting in its own right. As everyone eagerly dug in, passing plates and pouring drinks, I found myself hesitating, my appetite dampened by a lingering sense of unease.

"What are you going to eat?" Florence's gentle voice broke through my thoughts, drawing my attention back to the table. I bit down on my lip, uncertain of what to choose. Despite my efforts to improve my eating habits, moments like these still left me feeling queasy at times.

"Just pasta," I murmured, opting for a safe choice that wouldn't overwhelm my delicate stomach. Florence nodded understandingly, her eyes filled with warmth and compassion. With a graceful movement, she filled my plate with pasta, her gesture a silent reassurance of her support.

"Thank you," I whispered gratefully, offering her a small smile as I accepted the plate. Placing it down in front of me, I couldn't help but notice the peculiar appearance of the noodles before me.

"Why does it look like that?" I questioned in a hushed tone, picking up a strand of pasta with my fork. It was long and coated in sauce, the sight of it sending a shiver of disgust down my spine. Florence's expression softened, her eyes filled with understanding. "It's just the way they prepared it," she replied gently, her voice a soothing presence amidst my discomfort.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to push aside my aversion and focus on the warmth of the moment. I tentatively placed the strand of pasta into my mouth, closing my lips around it as I waited for the flavor to register. It was creamy, a sensation that both intrigued and puzzled me.

"Uhm..." I hesitated, swallowing the bite despite my uncertainty. "It's... okay," I mumbled, trying to mask my ambivalence. "You like it?" Florence inquired, her eyes fixed on me with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

I nodded slowly, though my response was tinged with reservation. "Like... not very much, but this seems like the safest option," I admitted, my voice trailing off as I struggled to articulate my feelings.

"That's noodles, by the way," Hailee interjected, pointing out the obvious. "Noodles?" I echoed, the word unfamiliar yet vaguely familiar. "I've heard of that before, but why does it look like... that?" I gestured to the peculiar shape of the pasta, my confusion evident.

Florence shrugged in response, her expression mirroring my own bewilderment. "I don't know," she murmured, taking a spoonful of food into her mouth. I suppressed a sigh, feeling a mix of curiosity and frustration bubbling within me. As I took another sip of water, I braced myself for another bite, the flavor surprising me with its unexpected richness.