Bela noticed and rolled her eyes. "Eat, you bastard." She shoved him away from her, but she wasn't angry, just ... grumpy, she supposed. Some would say it was her natural state.
She shrugged, heading back toward the stairs. "So how many days should we say for the wedding? Haven't booked a honeymoon yet." She chuckled, though; she had a few ideas. "Say next week?"