The food was good—Ryan still remembered what Quinn liked, and she would be lying if she said that she did not feel touched.
It was hard not to compare Ryan to Sam, who were as different as heaven was to earth.
"Is it good?" Ryan asked.
"Very."
"Can you finish it?"
"No," Quinn admitted—it was a large box of meatloaf, and she could only eat half at most.
"Feed me if it's alright with you. I haven't had breakfast yet," Ryan said.
"You haven't eaten? Why didn't you eat while you waited for me?" Quinn exclaimed in surprise.
"It would get cold if I let the hot steam out, and I wasn't hungry."
Quinn pursed her lips, and held a slice of meatloaf near his mouth, and as he bit down, his lips touched her finger.
Quinn stiffened and put the slice on the handbrake housing. "Eat it when you can."
"Yeah," Ryan replied with an obvious grin.
Quinn must be embarrassed from touching him just now.
Soon, they arrived at the city wall—where the capital lacked tourist spots, there were plenty of historical locations.
They walked quite far along the ramparts, and Quinn had enough stamina to keep going.
Ryan was quite studied in history, and as they admired the sights of ancient wonders, Quinn listened to his narratives since it made him an interesting tour guide.
"Let's check in," Ryan suddenly said.
"What?"
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