The food arrived forty minutes later—pad thai, green curry, spring rolls still crispy and hot.
They ate on the couch, containers spread across the coffee table, the cooking show playing on low volume. Noel criticized every technique. Luca pointed out he was still watching.
"I'm not watching, I'm observing," Noel said around a mouthful of noodles.
"That's the same thing."
"Observing is passive. Watching implies engagement."
"You're engaged. You just yelled at that guy for not resting his meat."
"He didn't rest it long enough."
Luca grinned, stealing a spring roll from Noel's container. "You love this show."
"I tolerate it."
"Same thing."
Noel kicked his ankle lightly, but he was smiling.
The afternoon dissolved into evening. They finished the food, migrated to opposite ends of the couch—Noel reading something dense and academic, Luca scrolling mindlessly through his phone. The cat claimed the space between them, purring loud enough to be heard over the television.
