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I let my fingers slide over her eyebrow, down her temple, stopping only to cup her jaw.

She turned her face slightly into my palm as she sucked in a breath so deep her whole chest shook.

I had the strange, inexplicable urge to demand that she not say whatever it was she was about to. Warning bells were going off in my mind, telling me that anything that had her looking so stricken must not be something I wanted to know.

“Silas…” she started.

Something about my name on her lips teased at something inside me, but the feeling faded faster than it arrived.

“I need to—”

Whatever she’d been about to say was unceremoniously interrupted by her stomach letting out a growl.

My shoulders loosened.

I was glad for any topic that didn’t make the air in the car feel like it had become riddled with landmines, like any sudden movement—or confession—could set off an explosion. And there would be nothing but rubble in the wake.

“I guess six snack bags of chips, four pastries, and a meat stick weren’t satiating enough.” A strange little hiccuping laugh escaped her at that. “Go on. Hop into your seat. I will find somewhere for you to eat.”

I could feel her gaze on my profile for a few moments, but eventually, her posture softened again, and that haunted look in her eyes disappeared.

“Do you want some?” she asked a few minutes later when we were parked at a drive-through and she was leaning over me to fetch items off the tray attached to my window. “I mean, I know you don’t need to eat. But in case you were curious if mozzarella sticks are as good as you remember… oh, you didn’t live in the age of the mozzarella sticks, huh?” she asked. She plunged one into the watery tomato sauce and bit into it. The moan she let out made my body completely forget that I’d just gotten relief from the clawing desire I felt for her.

“Unfortunately, I did not.”

“Well, for the record, they’re practically the best thing ever invented. Though funnel cakes and New York City pizza are probably all tied. What was your favorite food?”

“Food was not very exciting when I was human. A hearty stew was the best you could hope for. And some freshly baked bread.”

The conversation evolved from there, going from food to some of my favorite things from history.

It was the first time in many years that I was forced to reflect more deeply on my experiences in life. When I looked back on my long life, I tended to view it through things I learned, not experiences I’d had or what brought me joy.

“What was your favorite decade in modern history?” She shoved another fry into her mouth, despite having said a moment ago that she was going to burst.

“You’re going to need to be more specific. ‘Modern’ means something very different for each of us.”

“The last hundred years.”

“The last hundred years have a lot of unique time periods,” I started. “But I have a soft spot for the ‘90s. The generation that straddled this modern age without letting technology take over everything. It was a really interesting time for music, literature, and culture as a whole.”

“The best rom-coms came out in the ‘90s.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Cynic,” she said, shaking her head. “Okay. I need to throw this out or I’m going to keep eating until I feel sick.” She started stacking her trays and trash together.

“What’s your favorite?”

“Favorite what?”

“‘90s rom-com?”

“What an impossible question. I resent you making me try to choose.” She shot me a narrow-eyed look. “I have to get to pick three.”

“Okay. Three.”

“‘You’ve Got Mail,’ ‘While You Were Sleeping,” and ‘One Fine Day.” She paused. “I mean, there are so many great, more obscure choices. ‘The Beautician and the Beast’ and ‘The Truth About…’”