Chapter 317
His left hand, still firmly and securely clasped within Erietta's right hand, did not release its grip at all.
Instead, the hold tightened slightly, as if seeking reassurance or distraction.
And from there, the solution emerged.
Once the strange sensation in his mouth subsided, Ilux used their connected hands as a gentle lever.
He tugged Erietta's hand softly, not to pull away, but to guide her, inviting her to move away from the stall that had become the source of that culinary disaster.
His eyes, still a little watery from the reflex earlier, were already looking toward another cart across the way, one that clearly radiated a friendlier aroma of fresh fruit and sugar.
With a voice still hoarse yet already carrying a coaxing tone, he began to move both of them along.
A silent offer that something better awaited over there, another version of a drink he trusted would be far tastier, more reliable, and unlikely to traumatize his tongue.
Erietta, who had been watching Ilux's exaggerated reactions with barely contained laughter, finally allowed herself to be guided.
"Eugh—this one tastes unnatural too!"
"Haha! Looks like every drink here has agreed to put a special curse on you, Ilux!"
"Erietta, you're too much."
Ilux, having learned a valuable lesson from the first drink, approached the new cart with cautious hope.
This time, the choice seemed more conventional, its color clear and its fruity aroma fresh.
Yet misfortune still appeared to haunt his taste buds.
After the first test sip, the same disgusted expression returned to his face.
Perhaps it was the overly strong artificial flavor, or a combination that simply did not suit his palate.
He jerked back again, turned his head aside, and with the same reflexive motion, spat out the liquid.
Apparently, this street-food market was simply not on his side.
Ilux's repeated reactions, like a predictable slapstick routine, instead became an unexpected source of amusement for Erietta.
She could not hold herself back.
A giggle burst from her lips, clearly audible even as her left hand tried to cover the wide smile.
Her shoulders shook, her eyes narrowing with laughter.
Between laughs, she tossed out a theory—that perhaps all the drinks in this market had conspired to "curse" Ilux, turning every sip into a torturous flavor adventure.
The joke lingered in the air, fueling Erietta's laughter and deepening Ilux's comical misfortune.
Ilux, still trying to clear the strange aftertaste from his mouth, heard the comment.
He let out a long sigh, a sound mixed with annoyance, disgust, and an acknowledgment of how ridiculous the situation was.
His head shook, and with a tone of mock irritation that held no real anger, he fired back at Erietta with a light curse, "damn it."
The word was not a true insult, but a humorous release of frustration, an admission that amid all this, Erietta was the one enjoying his suffering the most.
And so it went on.
For quite a while, they wandered through the market, trying one food after another.
The two of them sank into a naive culinary experiment filled with laughter.
There were moments when one of them—Ilux, this time—tried skewers with sauce so spicy that his face turned red and his eyes watered, while Erietta laughed loudly.
There were also moments when sauce from a sweet martabak dripped onto Erietta's clothes, prompting light teasing from Ilux before he casually offered her a tissue.
Their conversation was filled with trivial comments, silly observations about vendors or food, jokes whose humor only the two of them truly understood.
They did not care about appearances, nor worry about looking foolish in front of passersby.
What existed was only the simplicity of togetherness, the satisfaction of sharing direct, unpretentious sensory experiences.
They did not feel the need to end the day with something "romantic" in quotation marks, with grand gestures or declarations.
Their happiness was already fulfilled by laughter choked by spiciness, by affectionate teasing, and by the warmth of hands that never let go, carrying out a flavor adventure amid neon lights and familiar crowds.
'Even if they look engrossed, this surveillance mission is not over yet.'
While the aroma of melting sugar and grilled meat still ruled the market air, a new arena opened within the bustle.
Erietta and Ilux, their hands still linked, now found themselves facing a different kind of challenge, a plate radiating heat and threat.
On it, two fried eggs still softly sizzling looked ordinary enough, yet were covered in a glossy layer of bright red sauce, a clear warning to untrained tongues.
The contest formed spontaneously, perhaps sparked by a challenging glance or a claim of who could handle more spice.
The competitive spirit long hidden beneath their laughter suddenly flared, turning a casual snack into a serious little duel.
The two teenagers took their positions, their free hands now gripping chopsticks tightly.
Their faces were filled with concentration and pure ambition, like two fighters about to enter the ring.
A starting signal—perhaps just a nod or a look—and they struck.
Mouths opened, the first bite taken almost simultaneously.
Their expressions changed within seconds.
Faces once set with determination suddenly contorted, eyes widening, a flush of red creeping from cheeks to ears.
Yet neither backed down.
They chewed quickly, trying to swallow, breaths beginning to rush through noses that already felt aflame.
This contest was no longer about enjoyment, but about resolve—about who could endure longer without surrendering to the fire on their tongues.
From afar, behind the thicket of neon lights and the slowly moving crowd, two other pairs of eyes watched this sensory duel with equal focus.
Theo and Aldraya had found a new observation post, perfectly concealed behind the ordinary bustle of an ice cream stall.
They sat on small stools partially hidden by a transparent plastic curtain, each holding a simple ice cream cone that now served more as camouflage than as a treat to be enjoyed.
The line at this stall was not crowded, giving them room to breathe and a clear vantage point without having to squeeze.
Every movement they made—Theo occasionally licking his ice cream and Aldraya merely holding hers in silence—looked natural and drew no attention.
From behind the plastic curtain fogged by temperature differences, their surveillance never ceased.
Theo's eyes tracked every shift of expression on Erietta's and Ilux's faces, every sharp breath, every shake of the head from unbearable heat.
He could feel the tension of competition even from dozens of meters away.
Beside him, Aldraya sat with perfect posture, the ice cream cone in her hand not melting at all, as if preserved by her cold body temperature.
Her empty yet all-absorbing gaze fixed on the same scene, trying to analyze this human behavior with an entirely different logic.
There were no suspicious movements from either of them, no excessive whispering, just two market-goers resting while enjoying ice cream, like dozens of others around them.
To be continued…