There's no getting around it: you've raised a romantic mastermind.
[ Sholmes steps behind Mikotoba to skim Susato's neat handwriting, one arm slung around his shoulders. A brow arches at the assurance of privacy, and the mention of the novels gets a soft scoff, but "Iris' recipe" is what excites him most; it confirms his suspicions as to what those plates hold.
How long has it been since he's had pheasant? Months. The smell alone transports him to the London flat: of stepping in from a wet, chill evening to the warmth of a stoked oven and Iris humming happily in the kitchen. The flowers respond to his fond memory, glowing brighter and leaning towards the source, as if he were the sun.
Sholmes brings his other hand up, and slips his fingers under the collar of Mikotoba's jacket. ]
May I take your hat and coat, my dear? We must strike while the pheasant is hot! [ That's how the saying goes, right? ]
no subject
[ Sholmes steps behind Mikotoba to skim Susato's neat handwriting, one arm slung around his shoulders. A brow arches at the assurance of privacy, and the mention of the novels gets a soft scoff, but "Iris' recipe" is what excites him most; it confirms his suspicions as to what those plates hold.
How long has it been since he's had pheasant? Months. The smell alone transports him to the London flat: of stepping in from a wet, chill evening to the warmth of a stoked oven and Iris humming happily in the kitchen. The flowers respond to his fond memory, glowing brighter and leaning towards the source, as if he were the sun.
Sholmes brings his other hand up, and slips his fingers under the collar of Mikotoba's jacket. ]
May I take your hat and coat, my dear? We must strike while the pheasant is hot! [ That's how the saying goes, right? ]