[he checks the chicken, flips it delicately with tongs, allows Clarke her embarrassment. a small sizzle erupts from the pan, fresh herbs mixed with butter and oil wafting upward.]

Even if it didn't help, they saw your artwork.

[a little self-advertising, if nothing else. the flowers had been virtually harmless, though what he managed to cultivate and grow on his own will be used in a more controlled manner. he has several plants blooming already, hidden, but upstairs so they can absorb some sunlight.

he doesn't look at her while he tends to the chicken, but he does smile, half of it hidden.]

Thank you. That apartment hardly suited me. [it's said with a breathy, practiced laugh, but there is truth to it. that place is ugly.] I don't think it suits you, either.