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... owly, the words rolling off her tongue like a melody, her eyes glossing over with the kind of nostalgia that painted her cheeks in a soft pink hue.

Cyrus blinked. "Rice?" he echoed, gently, as if tasting the word.

"Mmhmm," she hummed, scooping another spoonful of soup. "Tiny white grains. Fluffy when steamed. They soak up sauces like a dream. You can pair them with anything—vegetables, stews, even beans."

Cyrus tilted his head, visibly trying to imagine it. "So... it’s li ...

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