Complicated Love

11- camouflage

Camouflage - a defence mechanism or tactic that organisms use to
disguise their appearance,
making them look like something else.
Usually to blend in with their
surroundings.

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Everyone at the tables demeanor changed due to Mr Rohan's words. A tension grew in the atmosphere that everyone except Mr Rohan seemed to notice. He was oblivious to the changing mood as he continued to speak "Even though Gabriel is gone. You are still my son. We're family."

Gabriel. The name ringed a bell in her ears. She knew she had heard it somewhere.

But where?

And what did Mr Rohan mean by "gone" did Gabriel travel? Or is he dead?

"Right Nur?" Mr Rohan inquired seeking for backup

"Y-yes dad. Of course" Nur nodded hesitantly. "Oh the food is here" Nur exclaimed evidently happy for the change of topic

Woman dressed elegantly in modest uniforms, placed plates of food on the table. Naomi's eyes widened as she scanned the dishes scattered across the wooden table. Their were a variety of foods that she herself couldn't name. Foods she had never seen nor tasted in her lifetime. A variety of drinks were on the table too. Alcoholic? She hoped not.

Out of the blue a bowl of soup was placed before her. Its aroma whizzed through the air and invaded her nostrils. Wasn't she supposed to order what she wanted to eat?

"Sahtain" Naomi raised her head from the table and looked at Mr Rohan. His hands were raised and their was a spoon in his hand. Her eyes widened slightly. She snapped her head down to the bowl of soup before her. Besides the bowl were a variety of spoons, forks and knives.

She didn't understand why there were a variety of utensils. It made no sense. They all looked the same in her eyes.

Couldn't they just eat with their hands?

She gulped as everyone picked their spoons and dug into their food. She needed to decide before anyone noticed.

Naomi did the rock paper scissors game in her mind trying to figure out which spoon to pick from.

She hesitated as her hands hovered around the spoon that had caught her eye. As elegantly as she could manage, she picked it up and pushed it into the bowl watching mesmerized as the variant colours of liquid faught their way onto the silver ornament. She raised the spoon up to her mouth, lifting her head in the process just to find the gazes of the whole table solely on her.

She froze. The spoon still dangling in the air. Colour drained from her face. She looked down at the spoon and back up at everyone at the table.

Did she do something wrong?

They stared back incredulously their eyes openly judging her.

Had she chosen the wrong spoon?

At this point discarding the utensils and using her hands would have been a better option.

"You use your left hand?" The question seemed rhetorical. As if their were some deeper meaning. Some hint being given to her but she couldn't seem to grasp it.

She gazed at the spoon in her hands and looked back up at him.Her mouth refused to move, at the fear of babbling, she decided to keep it that way. She settled for a nod.

Mr Rohan seemed to freeze for a second as if analysing her answer. Their was no camouflage to the discontent he harboured. "It is unclean" he said simply.