Tidefall's Song

Part II | Sweetest Sorrow

"So with the sweetest sorrow
Let me spell it out for you
For you and I are passed our dancing days
I said it's not your fault, I lied
I don't have time to watch you cry
And I'm thinking Romeo must die, ai, ai, ai, ai."

-'Romeo Must Die', Gabrielle Aplin.

•••

Country's Kitchen at China Town has always been one of the busiest diners during the lunch hour. Their wide variety of mouthwatering dishes served with rice never fail to amaze the people's tastebuds, including mine and Ivan's. This place certainly has a small charm to it due to its simplicity and history. The atmosphere here is never too suffocating, making it an easy place to relax.

But of course, relaxation turns into a hype when it comes to eating.

"I'm still starving. Is that normal?" Ivan asked, even after eating two plateful of chicken curry, stir-fried vegetables, fried tofu and sliced luncheon meat. Chinese dishes, it lives up to the location. As for Ivan, he's an overeater.

"Hog," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Did you just call me a pig?" He asked with squinted eyes.

Hell yes, I did.

I decided to ignore his question, and stared longingly at the shops around China Town. The shops around here have existed even before I was born and are guarded by many generations already. It's a special place to the city for its history, but it holds a deeper significance to me. Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming urge to break down and cry despite being out in the open.

I just couldn't bear it anymore; it hurts.

"You're having that expression again," I heard Ivan say.

"I'm sorry?"

He folded his arms and placed it on the table, looking intently at me. "That solemn expression on your face, you had it last night as well," he said.

I forced upon myself a smile. "Observant, are we?" I asked.

"What's wrong?" He asked, being straightforward.

"Why should I tell you? I don't trust you," I said, looking at him warily, "We just met last night. I don't spill my personal problems to strangers." Yeah, I know, my mouth has no filter.

He held his hands up defensively. "Woah, calm down, lady," he said, "You don't have to, but you know what they say - it's easier to talk to strangers than someone you know."

"That only applies in a bar and this isn't a bar," I said dumbly.

"It doesn't have to be a bar," he replied with a small smile.

"Are you done eating?" I asked, changing the flow of the conversation.

"Yes, maybe," he said, pausing for a while, "Don't change the topic."

Oh, he finally noticed. But gods, why is he so persistent?

"No, I'm not telling you. We just met. For all I know, you could use that information against me," I rebutted.