She was supposed to be out. Ortegas had insisted that engaged-long-distance qualified as single for this party, and Chapel hadn't demurred. But La'an's room was full of candles, and the table was scattered with flowers, and the dishes it was set with…
"I made it, so you have to like it."
Every single thing here contained strawberries. "You don't cook."
"I think it might show."
It wasn't going to matter. La'an stared at the colours, alive in the lighting. Basil and vinegar. The sound of the ocean. Chapel, hovering, pinching at her wrists. Genuinely nervous.
"It's…"
"Beautiful." Just like you.