"Fashion smashion, eat something," he glared at the TV, where some skeletor was stalking down the catwalk like she'd seen someone put a crease in her dress. He hated lollipop looking women. What he wanted was a girl who enjoyed a meal, who devoured food and appreciated it. Not ordered a side salad only to eat half a leaf and state she was full. Where was the figure? The life, the carefree attitude?
Tiger was already digging his fingers into his tub of food when Cissy returned from getting the cutlery. Sweet and sour chicken balls came easy pick-uppable and he was tearing one in half with his teeth when Cissy returned with forks. Maybe he should have waited just to be polite but she wanted him to be relaxed around her so he gave her a brief, apologetic look before he licked his fingers and scooted up so he could reach the table.
"I hate airplane food. It tastes plastic." This on the other hand was gorgeous and he dove right in the second all the bits were opened. "Dish isfh fo much beffah...."