She settles back on the couch beside him, shoulder to shoulder as she leans forward to set a cup in front of either of them in preparation.

"It was my mothers," she says quietly, seeing his eyes rest on the teapot. She knows that he isn't really asking about it and that there's no prompt for this, but she says it all the same. "When I was younger, she wouldn't let me play with it for fear I would break it. When I grew old enough, she gifted it to me on my birthday."