He just shrugs, because it probably is a silly formality after the last time he saw her they sat shoulder to shoulder on the floor of the bar, but he eases himself down beside her with a soft groan. It's been a long day already. "I'm afraid my cooking is only about bachelor-level. Sandwiches, soup, coffee..." He sighs wistfully, and murmurs, "My wife was a good cook..."
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