She watches like the simple act of biting into an apple is some little magic trick, something she shouldn't miss a second of, and she drinks it all in: the sharp crunch as his teeth break through that shiny red peel and that glisten of juice she spies on the edge of his lips before his hand moves to wipe it away.

And the way his eyes stay on her, not (she thinks) out of some really deliberate (successful) attempt at seduction so much as an outright disinterest in most of whatever else may be going on around them.

And she smiles again as she takes the apple back from him.

He gets to her every time.