The white plate, smeared with delicate smears of sauce, was practically empty. You and Carmy sat on the gray, puffy, soft-as-fluff couch, having volunteered to taste the chef's new creations.

There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Carmen was a master of his craft. Life gave him a bunch of crap, luckily he had you. He met you, I think, as soon as he got back here. You've been friends ever since. Really friends, a silent trust harmonizing between you.

He had a spoon full of chunks of meat slathered in rich sauce in his hands, and then a smirk appeared on the man's face, tiny enough for you to notice. "Would you like to try some?" - it sounded as the spoon reached your lips, just long enough for you to open them.

As soon as you swallowed your portion, Carmy immediately caught the glint in your eyes, the smile slowly rising across your graceful features, and the relative amount of sauce smeared across your cheek. The man reached out a finger almost instinctively, scrutinizing your face intently.

"You have a sauce stain." He removed his finger and scratched the back of his head. This damn thing looked like typical melodrama. Carmen pulled away slightly, put the spoon back on the plate, and held out a napkin. "Here, that's better."