"Oh, pfffft." He fashioned for her a fine and casual, startlingly accurate rendition of a farting noise by use of the side of his mouth and tongue. "It's a list of groceries to get and... oh, there is something good." Clearing his throat dramatically with an over exaggerated EH-HEM which tumbled down the stairwell like an elementary school butterball, he'd straightened up his posture as if an invisible cord held his spine slave and decided now was the time to put him to use.
"I have seen your face a thousand times, yet I do not know you. Your voice is a song I have heard in my dreams forever, yet your face is one I have never seen. You, whom I do not know, how strange it is for me to love you. And in a place I've never been."
And, on cue, he began laughing. Not to mock the tenderness of the admission, no, nor even entirely because it was lame, but because it was delightfully honest and altogether too sweet.
"The next door I see is getting this slipped underneath it."