Michael was seated at the kitchen table, practically perched on the edge of his seat as he swung his legs back and forth nervously and watched his mother at work. It was extraordinarily astounding seeing her this way. So much younger, clearly without a doubt about how to properly handle him, and yet she was also the same person all at once. He twisted his mouth to the side and blew a puff of air up to blow his bangs out of his eyes, hands nervously wringing together along the top of the table. He didn't know what he was doing here. He wasn't really even supposed to be here. Jeez, if Mom hadn't have been kidnapped in the future right now, she'd be searching the city high and low for him. He actually preferred her panic to the situation she was in now.
"I like lemonade," Michael verified, smiling up at her in amusement. "Tea is okay, sometimes you let me sneak coffee, and I think that orange soda is way underrated."
He took the glass from her and drank down a swig to press the point. "Thanks, M -" He cut himself off in time. Michael still didn't know if that was appropriate or not. He called her it over the boards, but in person it was sort of confusing. "How come you're less cranky than he is?"