He was trying to be honest. That's what she had been wanting from him the whole time. He was trying.
"Yeah.. but I haven't felt much like eating." He wrinkled his nose and moved to carefully ease off the edge of the bed, his arm protectively holding at his side. It wasn't like he had stitches or anything. Or that his insides were falling out. But he was still sore. The magic and all was healing him from the inside out or something? He hadn't quite gathered what Rose had said. But he had also had a bit of infection too. He was wearing a t-shirt, though. And pajama pants. So the slightly discolored skin where the bullet had nearly killed him couldn't be seen.
"Oh," he nodded, "yeah.. that's okay, then." He didn't really feel like eating, but he knew Ana kept saying he needed to. And Cat had made him soup! So he stepped past Catherine on the. Couch, to the kitchen area to dig around in a drawer to get a bowl and a spoon.
Looking back over at her at the mention of another interruption, he bit at his lip again. Studying her quietly a moment, he looked back down at the soup as he set the bowl down on the cabinet, next to the stove. He didn't want her to have to leave. He wanted to tell her that she could say no sometimes. It really wouldn't hurt. What did the circus do before she got there?? They'd be fucking fine.
But he didn't say that.
"I hope you can stay..." he hesitated a moment before serving himself some of the soup, carefully dipping it into the bowl.