Delicacy Novels & Stories

Its intimate ambiance was a stark contrast to last time. It was bathed in welcoming lights and filled with a symphony of hushed conversations and clinking silverware. As they were led to their table, Flora couldn’t help but steal glances at the decadent desserts displayed under a glass cloche. Damien noticed her interest. “You enjoyed the chocolate cake last time, didn’t you? Tonight, I thought we could try something even more special – a seven-course tasting menu with a delightful surprise at the end.”

“I know but wine looks so nice on the table.” “It’s extravagant to use wine to decorate.” “You’ve already told me I’m spoiled. So, indulge me, please! After all, you did agree to that truce, and it is our last night together.” Paxton made quick work of the memorial details and settled down to enjoy her, a pleasure that began even before the waiter brought them a tiny plate with so many minuscule delicacies, including little mushroom tarts, slim slices of lamb tucked into crisp greenery. “An ‘amuse-bouche’ (appetizer), mademoiselle,” the waiter said in his perfectly accented French. “A little gift from the chef.”

A sinless beauty often lures the darkest devils, obscured in an overcast waiting to ravage on her scrumptious body. Please vote, follow and comment your thoughts..🍂

But in the narrow washroom stall, those faint vibrations were inexplicably amplified. "Who's in there?" My heart skipped. I didn't dare move. The women outside didn't give me a chance to hide. Penelope began kicking the door to my stall while shouting at the top of her lungs, "Who said you could hide in there and eavesdrop on our conversation? Get out! I'm the heiress of the Sullivan Group! Get on my wrong side, and I'll make you wish you were dead. Come out now!" I pressed my hands against the rattling lock with all my strength. However, the relentless and forceful pounding ultimately caused the lock to give way, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I spotted a slight mismatch on one table and subtly nudged a fork into place as I passed. “Delilah! Darling, congratulations!” A squeal, followed by a heavily perfumed embrace. It was Felicity, a prominent food blogger known for her sharp critics. Her camera was already out, flashing away. “It’s absolutely divine! The ambiance, the aroma… I can already tell this is going to be a sensation.” “Thank you, Felicity. I’m so glad you’re enjoying it.” My smile felt a little less strained now. Her approval, though I tried not to crave it, was a powerful validation.

she asked again, her tone insistent, confusion written all over her face. I exhaled, glancing once more at the woman relishing her meal, and forced myself to answer. “Because those ones are cooked,” I said, though a trace of disgust slipped into my voice despite my attempt at calm. “They’re considered a delicacy.” “Gross! Who would ever eat a slug?” Kael blurted, his tone sharp with disbelief. He plucked another snail from the damp grass, holding it between two fingers as if it might explode. The creature began to wiggle out of its shell, and Kael yelped, dropping it at once. He pulled a face so dramatic that I couldn’t stop a soft laugh from escaping me, the

“You don’t get this kind of flavor anywhere else in the country.” Zagaff smirked a little, his eyes turned once more to the glass before replying, “Divas Delux only serves the finest. They know how to treat their guests.” The girls beside Ruger leaned in closer, one gently resting her hand on his shoulder while the other traced a finger along the rim of his glass. Ruger chuckled, murmuring something about how they were, “and these birds beside me really know how to keep me warm.” They laughed softly and tilted their heads toward him like he was telling the sweetest secret.

Delaney Only, the meal doesn't end as peacefully as I thought it would. We finish eating and Paola orders something they call Coal, which is a mass of gooey chocolate mixed with biscuit crumbs and nuts that’s absolutely delicious. It’s the best dessert I’ve ever had in my entire life, and I eat most of the bowl by myself and ignore the dirty look that Pollux gives me. I find that it’s easier when I act like he doesn’t exist. I didn’t have a problem with him before, but now I do. Does he think that he’s the only one who’s capable of being prejudiced against strangers? I don’t know him and yet, I have a terrible impression of him already.

And maybe the size that suits me is this. Or maybe I haven’t seen myself with that size before that’s why I couldn’t picture myself out with it, and makes me think that I am ugly with that size. “No!” he disagreed immediately and his brows furrowed even more. “I will really like it because it symbolizes how fond you are with my cooking skills, and you would still look good even if you’re fat, baby. Everyone does.” I just chuckled and shook my head. After that, I brought my gaze back to the food in front of me and started eating. I just stopped when I realized that Chly haven’t started eating yet. With it, I lifted my gaze and game him a questioning look.

Fragile. They rounded the last column and there it was: Baker’s Delight, glass cases gleaming with golden pastries, crusty loaves, plaits lacquered in glaze, rows of soft rolls dusted with flour like fresh snow. Heat burped from the ovens in soft waves, carrying butter and yeast and that impossible smell of bread at the exact second it decides to be bread.