She leaned back slightly, easily taking her hand back as she watched him adoringly. "I seems like it. Let's finish eating."
He nodded agreeably, returning to his soup. She would notice that he held the soup spoon appropriately, in a similar way that she was taught as a child, his fingers bunched at the top. "This is really good. How'd you make it?"
"I looked up the recipe online," she admitted bashfully. "I'm not confident in my own skills." She paused, tilting her head curiously with a grin. "Where'd you learn to hold a spoon right?"
He glanced up at her thoughtfully, before setting down the spoon and propping his and up with his elbow, considering it. “You forget that Alyssa and I were taken in by Romero at a young age,” he said quietly. “Etiquette was... very important to him.”
"I didn't forget," she said, tilting her head at him. "I just didn't realize he was such a stickler." The thought of Romero still seemed to rub her the wrong way, and he looked down at her bowl with a frown, seeming almost protective of Ferris. "I'm really glad you're here."
He laughed a little, looking at her thoughtfully as he rested his head on that same hand. “I’m glad I’m here too, babe. But, you know, even though Romero did some terrible things... he did still raise us. He let us move out.”
He reached across, taking her hand, his eyes wide and stricken. “No! Don’t apologize. I just don’t want to mislead you.”
She looked a little surprised at his reaction, her brows furrowing as she frowned. "I just don't like what he did with your memories and how he hurt you.." she sighed slowly. "Let's just change the subject."
He laughed a little, dropping his hand. “He’s not a good guy. I don’t want you to think I have some fondness for him. But... he did teach us some stuff.”
His chuckle came from his chest and he stood up, gathering their bowls. “What about your parents? Where are they?”
