“She sounds like she would be wonderful to be around.” Kaito said and lean forward on to his elbows. He expression wistful and soft. He was thinking about his own mother. Gods if she knew where he was right now she have a fit. He smiled at the last conversation he had with her. It had been about the man he was sitting with. The silence that settled around him was comfortable.
Hakuba set the glass back to the table, watching Kaito through the skewed reflection in the water. He loved that look on his face. It wasn’t one that he saw very often, but it was certainly one of his favorites.
“She is,” he said, and stole a glance at the door. The food would be arriving any moment, wouldn’t it? “I think that you would like her… other than her meddling tendencies, anyway, but what are mothers for if not to meddle?”
It was then, of course, that the two servants returned with soup – french onion – and sourdough, which they quietly set in front of the pair before whisking away to the kitchen again.