Re: log: adrian/wren - adrian's house
"It's the food," he said, of the smell, "Not me." He didn't know where Wren's humor comprehension was, but nothing lost, nothing gained. "Thank you. I haven't owned a house of my own before." Flat after flat behind him, it was good to have a true home. He'd been comfortable enough living with his sister, but it just wasn't the same as having a place that was entirely his. Aside from the roommate, of course, but that didn't trouble him.
In the kitchen, a small pot of sauce was bubbling away, and an open packet of tortellini sat on the counter. "Can I get you something to drink?" he asked, and nudged a chair out at the small, round kitchen table. He searched among dark wood cabinets for a pair of glasses, but one was apparently just for the flowers - he filled it with water, plopped them in, and put the miniature vase pride of place at the center of the table. "This is just the right amount of flowers, trust me. How have you been?"