short
Tony diligently arsed around with the fish until it seemed cooked. He hated the smell beyond words, but Neela needed to eat. The only problem was that she wouldn't and the last, and only, idea Tony had was giving her fish. Fish from the river out back. He hated water and was no fisherman, but he'd spent most of the morning getting wet trying to catch a medium sized fish. That's what love does to you. It was something Tony mused time and time again. He was still wet from his involuntary swim in the river, but satisfied that he had gotten a fish for Neela.
Chucking the fish on a thick wooden plate, taking a piece of the fish in his mouth. Salty, not particularly tasty. Perhaps overcooked, or undercooked. Tony was no chef and of course, he couldn't tell. Moving into the hall way, he picked up a velvet bag, the one with the dagger in it and then made his way to the bedroom he shared with Neela. Placing the plate on the bed her smiled softly, leaning over to kiss her head and then sit back on his side. 'Brought y' dinner. See anythin' nice out there, eh?' he asked gesturing to the window. There was a moment of silence, before Tony plucked up the courage to speak. 'N... Neela. The's sommin' I bin meanin' t' ask y'...'
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