Fifteen minutes later, they were seated at a table that had grown its own legs and walked to a scenic floating ledge to give them the "best view." The plates began appearing midair one by one, summoned from some kitchen of chaos.
"I ordered light," he said. "You know. Sensible."
She squinted at the increasingly absurd display arriving before her.
First came the tea, eight varieties:
Dream Mist: pale blue and tasted like someone had distilled a lullaby.
Firecracker Bloom: exploded in your mouth. Gently.
Screaming Earl: Earl Grey, but it yelled all the ingredients at you with every sip.
Reverse Chamomile: made you anxious instead of sleepy.
Glitter Chai: self-explanatory and sparkled in the dark.
Forget Me Not: tasted like nostalgia and made you forget something every time you drank it. You never knew what.
Phantom Hibiscus: invisible, but you felt it.
One called simply: Susan: No one knew what was in it.
Then the appetizers:
Upside down onion rings that moaned inappropriately when dipped in sauce.
Marshmallow dumplings filled with spicy jam and sealed with a kiss of lightning.
Then came the entrees. Four of them. Each.
Cloud burger: Literally a puff of cumulus with edible lightning in the middle. It tasted like ambition.
Sentient spaghetti: It tried to twirl itself. Malvor told his to "shut up and let her eat." She refused to eat it. Since it was alive.
Volcano chicken: It smoked, shimmered, and occasionally erupted with harmless sparks of paprika.
A cube of "compressed dinner": Layers of meat, vegetables, regret, and childhood memories, all neatly packed into a jiggling square.
The sides?
Sun baked carrots that hummed softly.
Cactus fries that poked back if not handled respectfully.
Mashed potatoes with rainbow veins that tasted different with every bite.
A salad that rearranged itself depending on Annie's mood.
And then… came dessert.
Ten of them. Each more ridiculous than the last.
A lava cake that actually flowed lava, but sweet, chocolate lava that hardened into fudge.
Miniature pies that sang opera before you bit into them.
Cotton candy clouds that occasionally sparked with joy, literal sparks.
A scoop of ice cream that told your fortune in sprinkles.
Upside down caramel flan that levitated and tried to escape if not eaten quickly.
Jellybeans that changed your voice for a minute after chewing.
Mirror mousse that showed you an embarrassing childhood memory as you ate it.
Lemon tarts that zinged your tongue and told puns with every bite.
Cheesecake that applauded you when you complimented it.
And finally… a slice of Void Cake: black as night, topped with stars, and made Annie briefly forget gravity while eating it.
Malvor leaned across the table, eyes dancing as she stared at the array of chaotic sweetness.
"I know you love dessert," he said, voice low, eyes warm.
She looked back at him, completely and utterly bewildered, a laugh escaping her lips. "You are unhinged."
"And you love it," he said smugly.
"Possibly," she muttered, reaching for the Void Cake.
He raised his glass of Glitter Chai. "To being delightfully unhinged, Annie my cosmic cupcake."
She clinked her cup of Susan against his. "To chaos."
The food left her dazed in the best possible way, full, satisfied, and still giggling over the memory of a marshmallow dumpling winking at her. She licked a bit of glitter from the corner of her mouth as Malvor stood, extending a hand.
"Come on, Annie my moonbeam of mayhem," he said with a grin. "You have not seen the best part yet."
She took his hand, still laughing, and let him lead her down one of the gently drifting walkways, the cobbled stones beneath them adjusting subtly with each step like a living sidewalk. Around them, floating homes swayed gently in the cosmic breeze, balloon-like structures tethered to nothing, each more whimsical than the last.
Then, just ahead, a sudden burst of sound, a child's squeal of delight. Annie stepped through an arch of glowing crystal vines and found herself in the strangest, most wonderful park she had ever seen.
It floated like the rest of the town, suspended in the void with no visible support. The grass shimmered with a faint bioluminescence, tickling gently under her bare feet. Swings hovered in midair, going in slow looping circles instead of back and forth. Trees with cotton candy leaves shaded benches that curved around upside down fountains. A slide made of gelatin allowed kids to bounce down with each joyful shriek.
The children, if you could call them that, were a surreal menagerie of chaos and charm. One with wings bigger than his body zoomed in circles above a girl with a tail made of stars. A small child with hooves and flowers growing in her hair twirled beside a tiny boy made of smoke and giggles. A dog walked a toddler who may or may not have been a plant.
Malvor settled onto a floating bench that drifted lazily in midair and patted the space beside him. Annie sat, taking it all in.
"I could people watch here all day," he said softly, a rare stillness in his voice.
Annie glanced at him. He wasn't grinning, wasn't posing or playing. He was just watching them. Watching life happen. She realized that, despite all the chaos and ridiculousness of his world, this was something real for him. This quiet, perfect moment.
"Do you come here often?" she asked.
He shrugged one shoulder. "Sometimes. When I want to remember that chaos doesn't always mean destruction. Sometimes it means… new things being born." He tilted his head toward the kids. "Look at them. None of them make sense. They're all some glorious accident. And yet… they laugh."
Annie leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "This place is insane."
"It's mine," he said. "And now it's yours too. If you want it."
She closed her eyes, listening to the giggles and the whispers of jelly leaves in the breeze.
She did want it. All of it.
Even the slide made of gelatin. Especially that.