“You guys enjoying your food?” Freya asks. It’s just me and this dude sitting right at the end of the table, so her question is obviously directed at us. “It’s great,” I reply, feeling the sickly syrup run down my throat. “Mhm, the sweetness is a little overpowering, though.” I almost give myself whiplash with the speed at which I lift my head. Sweetness. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. I pause with my fork halfway to my mouth and completely scrutinize the guy in front of me until recognition fills my body. He’s looking at me, the corner of his mouth tilted up slightly like he’s trying not
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