Fire

Rosalind grabbed the wine and finished its contents in one go. Then she handed the glass back to him.

"Are we done now?" she asked.

"You sound irritated. Was it my robe?" he asked.

"You just ran away," she met his blue eyes that sparkled under the dark lighting inside the room. "Without telling me anything." She hated that. She hated worrying about him.

Rosalind knew that it would not kill him, but she was the one who caused it. She did not want to harm him or see him suffer because she asked him to eat something he should not have.

"You could have said no and I would have let it go."

"Why would I?" he asked.

"What?" This time, Rosalind took a step back. She now realized how close they were.

"Why would I refuse the food that my wife asked me to eat?"

"Because it would harm you?" Wasn't that enough of a reason?

"But it would not kill me."

"Your logic is absurd."