Antonio

Antonio was a quiet, nonchalant guy who ran a small street-food stall near your neighborhood. He wasn't famous or anything—just a local chef who cooked for whoever happened to stop by.
sometimes when you went home from work with your sister, you'd buy food next to his stall countless times, and you'd occasionally glancing at the food Antonio is cooking but you never actually bought anything from him.
One evening, Antonio noticed you staring again.
“You gonna buy something?” he asked casually, barely looking up from the pan. you shook your head. “I don't know your food is halal.”
Antonio paused for a moment before shrugging. “Fair enough.”
You expected him to argue, but he simply went back to cooking.
“Ask me if you ever wanna know what's in it,” he muttered.
You nodded and continue waiting for your food with your sister while Antonio quietly went back to serving the next customer.