We were silently eating on our two-sitter table. I was staring at him; my lips were curved upward as I chew on my food. Neither did he give up staring back at me as well. He was sternly looking at me.
"Are you happy?" I asked even though his face was saying the opposite.
His eyes remained on mine. He was like devouring them after years of being spared from them. But he looked away soon after. His eyes quivered but he said, "Yeah."
"I am too.”
He paused from eating. He put down his utensils and leaned back to his chair then his eyes came back to me. I faintly smiled at him.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
"If I am dreaming."
"What do you mean? You're not dreaming. I am real. See?" I reached for his hand on the table and placed mine on top of him. "Can you feel me? Because I can fee
