She pulled out the sugar, about a quarter full and turned it upside down, letting a stream pour into the coffee. She looked at Sam and didn’t break eye contact until it was empty.
She didn’t break eye contact, flicking a dinner. The silverware drawer opened at the same tome as the ice box. A spoon and a pitcher of cream flew out to them and she fixed her coffee, still staring at Sam. She took a sip, her eyes narrowing.
“Also, a little too sweet,” she said, her gaze flickering down to look at it distastefully, setting it down.
“I knew it!” she said suddenly, pointing at him accusatorially. “My coffee is actually perfect! You just wanted to see me fail!”
