Eyes of silver watched the goddess after she had answered, his own fork resting lightly upon the plate where it had cut through the cake but not actually lifted yet. She prepared that bite and his attention moved past it to her eyes, even as they lowered away as the cake was lifted.
‘This will not end well.’ His own assessment echoed through his head, and he frowned a little as indulgence conflicted with his nature. It may be blissful, for now, but in the end it would all fall apart as it always did. He would hurt her if she did not hurt him first. There was no happy ending at the end of this story. Surely she had to know that.
And yet still, she was drawn, it seemed. A moth to his flame. Her own peril, he decided then. Were she not smart enough, or not willing enough to know better, he had no reservations about letting her continue on her path, with no moral obligation to tell her otherwise. He leaned in then and pulled the cake from the fork with his teeth, the intensity back in his eyes, seeming to be waiting for her to meet them again.