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hatori-sohma
“And where exactly did you think Ayame learned his fierce work-ethic from?”
With an arched brow, Hatori turned towards the false maid and moved to rest his chin in his palm, and his elbow on his desk. He hadn’t expected company, admittedly, particularly not so from the serpent’s partner. ‘Partner,’ yes, in all senses of the word- that was what Mine was to Ayame. In a way, it was comforting for the physician- to know Aya had a safety net when things grew rough. It was… Relieving.
Hatori found her to be an interesting creature herself, to so readily accept their curse, to join this circus called the Sohma clan while batting her eyelashes innocently. It was… Intriguing.
Snuffing out the cigarette- the scent would ‘cling’ to the expensive fabric, and stain the garment brown (how many times had Mine chided Hatori for it), Hatori moved to now stand, opting to pour his visitor a little drink. A bit cheekily, he extended the glass out towards her, and it was here that he issued a silent challenge: this is one of my best years, how many sips of this scotch will it take before you’re on the floor? Let’s see how you hold your liquor, Mine.
“This should loosen us up. Drink.”
“No sex can be a pretty powerful motivator, Tori.” She retorts, adjusting her glasses as if proving a point. A serious expression seems to take over her usual cheerful demeanor, though it only lasts briefly before the corners of her lips twitch into a grin. While she herself was very open about her sexuality, she knew a certain dragon who was not. With a soft chuckle she smooths out the front of her dress, making sure her apron was just right. “All jokes aside, I think it speaks volumes that Aya listens to every word you have to say. I’m sure you definitely had a hand in his discipline when it comes to his craft. He’s about as difficult, if not more so, to pull away from his work.”
Her gaze lingers on the cigarette that he snuffs out, giving him a knowing look before following him as he stood to pour her a drink. It was no secret that Hatori liked his whiskey, and not just any old whiskey; his profession did well to fund his guilty pleasure by allowing him some of the best liquor money could buy. With a nod she accepts the silent challenge, taking the glass and proudly knocking it back before wrinkling her nose a little at the burn. “Ah... I feel honored that you’re sharing a drink with me. Hopefully this means you’ll allow yourself some time to relax. Aya is out of town with some potential clients, so you’ll have to forgive my selfish desire to want to spend time with you. It’s not often enough that it’s just the two of us.”