After being out for so long, my stomach was growling with hunger.
I stopped by a nearby countryside eatery and ordered a grilled fish along with some local specialties.
Lucas, who was dining in such a humble place for the first time, clearly stood out like a sore thumb.
"Hey!
Sure, the decor here isn't as fancy as a five-star hotel, but the people are warm, and the place is spotless.
Stop wiping the tableware with your Hermès handkerchief—people are gonna think you've got issues!"
Seeing Lucas's obsessive cleanliness acting up again, Beauty snatched the utensils from his hands and shot him an exaggerated eye roll.
A quick glance confirmed the bowls and spoons had just come out of the sterilizer—they were perfectly clean.
What was the point of scrubbing them with a designer handkerchief?
Lucas shot her a wounded look.
"Not everyone has your... relaxed standards."
"*My* standards?
You're the one who's over the top—borderline germophobic!
