Even with the heated argument that I just had with Anput, I continued to make dinner like nothing happened, boiling my hand made noodles and piling them onto each plate, before drizzling a red wine sauce over them.
Laying the steak on top, I poured out more of the red wine sauce over that before garnishing the top with a small bit of basil.
When everything was finished, I grabbed the wine bottle and poured Jahi and I a drink, instantly downing my glass before pouring another.
Sighing, I placed the bottle in the center and sat down to eat, picking at the food in front of me; like most cooks, my joy came not from eating my own cuisine, but watching others enjoy my dishes, the widening of their eyes and happy moans as their tastebuds were assaulted with flavor being my own sustenance.
And yet, two plates remained untouched, spoiling any appetite I could have.
