I believe that we have influenced one another

As Alexander and I enter the kitchen, the sound of a kettle whistling fills the room. With shelves piled high with spice jars and walls lined with old copper pans, the room feels surprisingly warm. His grandmother, whose elegance is equaled only by her keen eyes and even sharper tongue, is sat at the middle of it all, a hot pot of tea on a charming wooden table.

As we walk in, she glances up, a smile spreading across her face that somewhat conceals its cleverness. "Alexander," she adds in a loving yet influential tone. "What do you think of this lovely young lady?"

Alexander stops, his eyes darting briefly to me and then back to his grandmother. There's a small but unmistakable smirk tugging at his lips, a look that seems like a challenge as much as a well-planned trick.

"Mia is...unexpected." He sounds almost lazy, but there's a hint of sharpness in his voice.