A myriad of expressions flash across his face as he reacts to her appearance. The smile directed at him has his stomach churning with that familiar butterfly sensation, only for the simplification of his gift to send him reeling. Flower!? It’s not just any overgrown, overpriced weed. This is a rose! The pinnacle of romance and feelings and all that mushy stuff! But his concern is alleviated by the brief hug, his mouth popping open in a little “oh” of pleasant surprise.

“Italian is great! And uh, yeah, lemme just…” Trailing off, he digs in the fridge to retrieve a beer. He doesn’t actually want to drink, but a bout of nerves has him desperate for something to cling to. If anything awful happens, he can blame it on the alcohol. “Okay, awesome. So do you, like, want any help with anything?”