The story so far:
I bite. All at once, the burger's juices flow over my tongue, spilling across my mouth in one delicious wave. I shudder with pleasure as I taste the exquisite flavor of beef, tangled with the sweetness of ketchup, the tang of mustard. Utter perfection.
I chew slowly, letting each morsel roll across my tongue. The man watches me, the pewter tray in his hands, waiting for some kind of command from me. I look at him, unable to speak.
I look at her now, still silent, my hands shaking, my eyes tearing from the utter joy of indulging. The scent of the burger still pungent in the air. Music still plays in the background, but I can't hear it. I see nothing, smell nothing, hear nothing but her, him and my meal. From that one bite, I feel like a glutton undeserving of such fine fare.
She looks pleased with herself, with me, with the burgers. "They please you?"
I nod, silently, still rolling the meat over my tongue to capture each nodule of flavor before swallowing. A few juices spill from the corner of my mouth and I quickly flick out my tongue as not to waste. Only then can I speak.