The two men ate peacefully on the outside, a mask of civility between them, while their minds rumbled with total chaos on the inside.
One was worried, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs, scared and subtly cautious about what kind of question would come next, and whether he would be able to lie his way out of it again.
Opposite him, the other was itching, a series of questions burning in his throat alongside a double-edged curiosity.
It was a hunger capable of consuming his self-control, matching the sudden, reckless acceleration of his mouth before a single warning could trigger.
"Miguel, when was the last time you had sex?" Fedora blurted the words out in a hot, jagged rush.
Miguel paused mid-chew, the tension in his shoulders snapping as a wave of relief washed over his face.
Finally, Fedora was done with the interrogations that clawed at his real identity.
