[ Grell swirls his fork, capturing the pasta and then stuffing it into his mouth. It's delicious; he shuts his eyes, luxuriating in the sensation.

...Presently, however, he notices that William isn't saying anything. He fidgets, crossing and uncrossing his legs under the table. He really is trying to be quiet, too. ]

Is...

[ But he can't help himself! ]

Is something the matter?

Don't you like it? I think it's delicious. Any~thing you make for me is to D~I~E~ for, you know ☆