He had never seen Kagome so angry before, but he knew she was right. He hadn't touched anything she had made. He forced himself to eat everything on that plate.
The next day, as dinner rolled around the smell of Kagome's cooking drifted throughout the small apartment, he found his stomach growling. Opening the door of his bedroom was a tray with a cup of tea and a warm plate of food. Instead of just leaving it there, like he normally did, he picked the tray up and joined Kagome at her small table.
They sat in an oddly comfortable silence.