He gives her this little smile and she waits maybe, for him to take it away from her, but instead, it grows. Feeling her lashes against her cheek as her eyes scrunch with the giddiness of kind words. A predisposition before they had tried to take it away to be quick to laughter, quick to smile. Before she has the good sense to cover it, wetting her lips, biting white blunt teeth into the full of her bottom lips.

"I would like that."

And she goes about the business of wolfing down the rest of the meal, like the half-starved thing she is.