The dining room filled with the gentle ring of clanking plates as Gracia began to clear the table. Riza sat quietly as she removed the half-eaten dish in front of her, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
"Darling! Let me help!" offered Maes as he began to rise from his chair.
Gracia shook her head and discretely nodded at the usually large amount of food left on Riza's plate. Without a word, he sank back into his chair and turned towards Riza, who was busy memorizing the path of every thread in the white tablecloth. A nervous acidity bloomed in Maes' core. This version of her silence was foreign to him.
"Riza?"
Instinctively, she stiffened at attention. Maes couldn't help but smile at her ingrained seriousness. It never disappeared, even outside the office. Riza met his gaze, her soul still reeling behind her eyes to remember where she was.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
The question did nothing to settle her.
"It… It was wonderful!" she mumbled, "Thank you so much for having me this evening."
Maes smiled again and shook his head.
"No, Riza," he said, "How are you? I noticed you didn't eat very much. Is Gracia's cooking that terrible?"
"I heard that!" called Gracie from the kitchen.
Riza slightly reddened, "No, of course not. It was delicious."
Maes' face suddenly hardened, the light glaring menacingly off the lens of his classes. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.
"What happened, Riza?"
Riza sighed softly and began to massage the bridge of her nose. The walls of the tiny Hughes apartment seemingly inched their way towards her with every breath.
"Was it Roy?"
Riza's eyes flew open at the mention of her commanding officer's name. There was no hiding now.
"I found him asleep as his desk again…" she started.
Maes nodded.
"… Screaming."
Maes said nothing.
"Like the kind of screaming from before."
She effortlessly went back to her detailed examination of the tablecloth.
"I know you worry about him," said Maes.
Riza raised her head.
"It's a lot for one person to bear," he stated.
"He's —"
"I mean you, Riza."
She couldn't help but gasp.
"He told me about your back. We were drunk. I swear that no one else knows. It wasn't something I was happy to hear, but it all makes so much sense now. How I can believe in how strong you are," explained Maes.
Riza said nothing. He eyes fixed on endless beige of the dining room's far wall. Suddenly, the silence was broken when Elicia shouted from the kitchen.
"BUT I DON'T WANNA GO TO BED!" she cried, "I WANT TO STAY UP WITH DADDY AND AUNTIE RIZA!"
Riza smiled as she saw Gracia lift up her daughter through the kitchen doorway and softly rock her into silence before she disappeared down the hallway towards the bedrooms.
"You're a lucky man," she said.
Maes leaned back in his chair, the seriousness on his face melting away with love for his family.
"I still have to remind myself everyday that it's all real," he confessed, "A man who's done as many horrible things as I have."
"I have no doubt that you deserve it," replied Riza.
"If so, then you do as well," he said firmly.
Riza's eyes widened in surprise.
"Surely, you don't —"
"Roy is a good man. In fact, he's the best man I know. All thanks to a stolen piece of quiche," said with a smile.
A blush slowly creeped its way across Riza's cheeks.
"We're all in this together together, remember?" he asked, "And I'll be damned if I'm not around to see everyone's rightful endings through."
"Thank you, Maes."