Yellow tulip, iris
Pink rose
Daisy
Your muses sends mine a flower based on our relationship. Which is it?
Pink rose: friendship
Red rose: love
White rose: purity (nature of relationship, not the type)
Sunflower: adoration
Purple tulip: loyalty
Yellow tulip: hopelessly in love
Pansy: loving thoughts
Daisy: innocence (nature of relationship, not the type)
Lavender: distrust
Yellow chrysanthemum: secret admirer
Iris: inspiration
Red tulip: declaration of love
His stomach gave a guilty lurch. Yes, he was lying, but Hakuba didn’t sound up for it, especially with how he wasn’t sure what was going on, himself. “That sounds wonderful, Hakuba.“
"I’ll call you again some time soon to… arrange something or other. Though I guess it might be after the charity event at this rate.” The detective sighed. “So much to do… mmn. Have a pleasant evening, mon attirante voleur.”
Hate Date in Osaka
Heiji felt like he was talking himself into a hole, if Hakuba’s body language was anything to go by. Every time he spoke, the Brit tensed up more and more.
He wanted to hit his head against the counter. Nothing he said seemed to cheer the other detective up. He didn’t even know why he was trying anymore.
Fine. One last try.
“Look. S’obvious I’ve offended ya. So jus’ tell me what I said wrong.”
It frustrated Hakuba that Hattori could be so direct. So… aggressive, even in a public setting. He took a deep, but quiet breath, held it for two heartbeats, then let it out slowly, calming himself. He could address the matter civilly and appropriately, right? Even though it was Hattori.
“Everything you said was wrong."
Oh. Maybe not.
The foreign detective glared down at the food in front of him, picking at it uselessly with his chopsticks. Not because he couldn’t use chopsticks – he was actually quite skilled with them! – but because he really could not bring himself to eat while this upset.
"Do you have any idea how embarrassed I am? How hard it is to… to be here and look like an idiot, unintentionally offending others because of my.. my lack of super secret special knowledge that you possess? God, Hattori, it’s almost as if you just don’t get it. I’d… I’d like to see you try to survive in England for a week, let alone take classes AND manage to stay at the top of your class in school. Can you even speak English?!”
All of this was said quietly, the end a hissed whisper. He didn’t want to draw attention to them, but it was difficult when things were heated. And, clearly, he was upset.
“Yeah. But I doubt it’d happen, Hakuba. Despite the magic thing, I’m not a dragon. That would be cool, I have to admit.” He stretched out and yawned.
This reaction did surprise Kaito, Hakuba being something other than either dismissive or having his brain break due to how illogical stuff like magic was.
“Maybe some other time."
Hakuba closed the laptop and looked at the case files on his desk, eyes tiredly narrowing at them.
"I’m… very relieved to hear that you’re all right, Kaito-kun. Very, very relieved. And appreciate that you called me to tell me before I terrorized the force into organizing a search and rescue party.” He stifled a yawn. “…but I think I’d better get back to work.”
He leaned over, resting his forehead against the desk.
“Dinner… some time soon?”
“Of course I mean the stage trick, Hakuba. What, you think I turned into a dragon? Well, if I did, I would have broken into your place and laid there, just to see your face when you saw me.” He just grinned for a moment. Him as a dragon would’ve been interesting, admittedly. Flying would probably be fun, too.
“I think I would like that if you did,” Hakuba answered honestly before he really had a chance to think that through. He left the window seat and went to his desk, pulling up his laptop.
“Probably an white, eastern-style dragon for you… Would you really visit me if that happened?”
Hakuba hadn’t slept in a while, which perhaps explained the rather non-detectivey response, but he didn’t seem to notice, distracted by looking up images on the internet.
growing up as a gifted and talented student made me ridiculously ashamed of being wrong. like being wrong about the littlest things makes me want to cry and hate myself and i turn back into the big baby i actually am.