After the shock of the morning, they didn't rush anything.
Damon picked up the phone and ordered breakfast while Svetlana cleaned up. They both moved slowly, speaking little until the food was on its way.
Once they were washed up and dressed in something simple, they settled by the table in the suite's quiet lounge area.
The plates were laid out, but neither of them reached for the food right away. Damon finally pushed a fork into his scrambled eggs and gave her a glance.
"Still feel sick?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Better than earlier. Still off."
He nodded, chewing slowly. "Could be a lot of things."
Svetlana gave him a sideways look. "You think it's food poisoning?"
"No," he said quickly. "I think it might be... exactly what you think it is."
They didn't say the word. It hung there between bites of toast and careful sips of juice. Svetlana rested her hand lightly on her stomach without realizing it, her expression unreadable.
