"He seems quite invested in your well-being." He couldn't help but wonder who he was, exactly, aside from just a nosy neighbor. A friend? A boyfriend, possibly? "I write," he said, thinking back to the last time he'd told that lie--Jude, who'd spotted the cracks in it as soon as she'd seen the calluses on his hands. They were in his pockets at the moment, so hopefully Iris didn't have the same skill of divining by the thickening of skin. "Technical work, for pamphlets and the like. It's not exciting, but it pays the bills."