Kafka glanced to the side, raising an eyebrow as he noticed how closely Olivia was still pressed up against him, practically glued to his side. Even after the waitress had shown them to their booth and handed them their menus, she hadn't let go of his arm, not even a little.
He looked at her with a teasing smile and said,
"You know, Mom...I get that you don't go to restaurants much, but usually when two people come to eat together, they sit across from each other."
He tapped the table lightly for emphasis.
"Makes it easier to talk, easier to see each other's faces, you know? You sit on the same side, and now we've gotta twist our necks just to say a few words. Either we'll focus on eating or talking, but not both."
"...And let's be honest, your neck isn't built for all that twisting."
She didn't move away, instead only hugged his arm tighter, burying her cheek against his bicep as she mumbled.
