Layla always eats as though someone is going to steal her food from her. She gobbles down her meals, all the way to the last crumb, even sopping up the roast juices with her last chunk of sourdough
She washes it all down with her third mug of Rozlin and still never so much as staggers. Serena’s seen her outdrink two-thirds of the patrons to every bar they’ve ever visited.
And she does it all in half the time it takes Serena to finish her own meal at a leisurely, enjoyable pace.
It’s not because Layla has no manners. She was raised with a wealth of them.
But she is accustomed to fending off the grabby hands of three siblings with bottomless pits for stomachs.
Her family doesn’t know the meaning of the term “leftover.” For them, remaining servings are called “not yets.”
It’s quite cute actually.
Serena’s still waiting for an invitation to a family dinner. She suspects it hasn’t been extended because Layla is a little embarrassed.
Sooner or later, Serena is sure she’ll understand that Serena loves her just the way she is.
Crumb flecks on her cheeks and all.