NaraMoore ⛩️👻八尺様👻⛩️ at FediThe Shape of Love Part 1
#FanFiction #MyHappyMarriage
#Wss366 Cube
Miyo protested one more time as she and Kiyoko approached the large, Western-style building in the capital. The restaurant’s staff had set up tables under cloth umbrellas outside and hung lanterns that competed with the flashes of flame where cooks in white uniforms broiled meat. Even from where the couple stood, the odor of the roasting steaks tempted them.
“I could have cooked. There is no need to spend money on food,” Miyo said. Her voice was low but steady. Inside, though, she was quaking. Was Kiyoko tired of her cooking? Did he want the type of food this restaurant served: western-style steaks, chops, and roasts? She was always sparing with the meat; it was expensive, and her husband had never expressed an interest in it, seeming to prefer fish and lighter fare, but maybe that was him being polite.
“Hazuki said the food here was an experience,” Kiyoko reassured her. “The cook studied in London and has duplicated the food served in private clubs there. Besides, Hazuki says I need to spoil you more, and Tadakiyo agrees. Your cooking is so good, I forget you deserve a break now and then. This is my way of making up for my selfishness.”
He squeezed his wife’s hand.
The gentle pressure helped her relax a little. It would be disloyal to disbelieve him, though she would have been happier to have been cooking his dinner. Nothing made Miyo happier than seeing him enjoy the food she fixed. That was her being selfish, and if it pleased Kiyoko to take her to a restaurant, she would do her best to enjoy herself.
Upon entering the building, a man in a Western suit ushered them to a table with a white linen tablecloth. Tea candles burned in the center of the table, along with a vase with a single flower. Servers had already laid out brilliant silverware at their places, as well as several silver containers: a small pitcher of cream and a dish with small paper-wrapped #cubes.
The latter drew Miyo’s attention. What could they be? She was so curious that unthinkingly she reached out a finger to touch, then withdrew it, afraid of being rude.
“Go ahead, unwrap one,” her husband said, a gentle smile touching his lips. Her childlike curiosity moved him. She resembled a small bird that wanted to investigate a shiny object, but was too afraid. Instead, it hopped almost, but not quite, close enough to peck at it. Not long ago, she had been like a captive wren, afraid to come out of her cage.
He sighed. There wasn’t another woman alive who was as perfect for him.
[Continued on Monday]
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