Mio didn't even wait for Claude to finish arranging the food.
Her stomach growled loud enough to shake the walls, and Claude laughed softly as he placed the tray carefully on the bed.
"Don't stare," Mio muttered, embarrassed.
"I would never," Claude replied, already staring with the adoration of a man who believed the sun rose just to highlight his wife's hair.
Mio stabbed a piece of steak and took her first bite, practically melting. "It's… so good," she mumbled with her mouth still full.
Claude's grin stretched ear to ear. "I know."
"Don't get cocky," Mio snapped weakly, chewing faster.
Claude sat beside her on the edge of the bed, deliberately close. Too close. "Here," he said, picking up a fork. "Let me feed you."
Mio paused mid-bite.
"No."
Claude blinked innocently. "But you're sleepy. It's faster this way."
"Claude, I can feed myself—"
He didn't let her finish. A forkful of pasta was suddenly pressed toward her lips.
Mio glared.
Claude gently wiggled the fork.
