The Seventh Avenger

Chapter 49: America's Golden Boy

"I'm not eating it."

"James-"

"Not a chance."

"Please?"

"No."

"Oh, come on."

"How can someone eat this sort of stuff?"

I"Quit being a baby and try some, OK? It's honestly not that bad," I try to reason with him, picking up a piece and popping it in my own mouth, chewing happily as James glares at me from the other side of the table. I can't help but roll my eyes as his nose scrunches up in disgust as he glances down at his own food in front of him.

"Seaweed belongs in the ocean," he mutters darkly underneath his breath, just loud enough for me to hear.

"James, it's just Sushi for God sake," I exasperatedly exclaim once I've swallowed my mouth full. "People eat this all over the world-I'm seriously surprised that you haven't had any before."

"Really? Cause I'm not."

I roll my eyes once more, shaking my head at his continued stubbornness. "I never should have told you what sushi was made from in the first place," I say, silently cursing myself for doing so just moments before. After we had left the store, James had suggested that we should go and sit down so that I could recover from the vivid vision, with myself quickly agreeing to what he was suggesting. I had insisted that we grab a bite to eat as well, and had been quick to suggest sushi. James had been all for it, until he had informed him what sushi was predominately made out of when it had been placed down in front of us.

"Just give it a try," I plead, nodding towards his Californian roll in front of him. "If you don't like it, then we can go and get you something else-but I'm not going to do so,until you at least have one bite."

He remains silent at my proposition, glaring still at the food in front of him on his plate. He neither moves to pick up the sushi piece, nor does he protest against what it was that I was saying, much to my delight: though he wasn't agreeing to do so, he wasn't exactly saying no either. But after what seems like an eternity later, he lets out a long and almost exaggerated sigh of defeat before then reaching down and picking up the smallest of the pieces and holding it up in front of him. I don't say a word as I watch him, afraid that he may chicken out if I did say something to him. Instead I both silently and patiently wait as he ever so slowly nibbles at the piece of food.

I study his face carefully as he chews, attempting to gauge out his reaction as he ate. I watch as he slowly straightens his nose, though his brows were narrowed thoughtfully as he continued to chew. He eventually swallows, and once he no longer has any food in his mouth, he informs me in a murmur, "It's...not bad."

I can't help but grin smugly at this, feeling a sense of victory at the words that had just flowed from his mouth. When he notices this, the glare returns to his face, though there was a certain sheepish look to it as well. "Not a single word," He warns lowly, causing me to chuckle earnestly, much to his annoyance.

"I told you so," I reply sweetly, ignoring his warning.

"I hate you."

I cluck my tongue at this. "'Hate' is a very strong word, so I'm not quite one hundred percent certain that you mean that."

"Fine. I dislike you."

"Ouch. I'm heartbroken James, really."

"Sarcasm?"

"Nicely deduced," I reply with a lopsided grin, which he quickly returns.

After this, we don't say much to each other for a while, but instead choose to simply just sit there and enjoy our lunch. We were sitting in a food court and there were many people eating food around us. Thankfully no one paid us the slightest attention, which meant that we could sit here peacefully without fear of being disturbed.