“So, what do you think?”
“It’s good,” I hum, barely getting the words out as I take another bite.
“I don’t think I like it as much as you,” he chuckles, placing his bowl on the park table.
We were currently in an area filled with food trucks, and as usual, they had the best food.
“You should grab something else, I noticed you barely ate.”
“I’ll whip up something at home.”
“Are you sure? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he reassures me, “just not a big fan of fast food. A friend of mine recommended the octopus so I thought we’d try it out, but it’s a little too . . . much . . . for me.”
“I get it.”
Apparently, we were eating Octopus water and I assure you it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. They didn’t make the water out of octopus of anything, it was just a broth with well-seasoned Octopus
