Oliver had followed her wordlessly into the kitchen, where he put the tin with the cookies on the counter and leaned his hip against the counter. "I'll help with the food, if you want. I'm alright at cooking. In this place, anyway." He didn't cook much at home and he assumed that he hadn't picked it up in the future either. It had been a coincidence that he'd started cooking in the village. After the bickering with Percy he'd bought a cook book for Perce and had then ended up using it himself.
"Breakfast is good. Always good." He opened the tin she'd brought and fished out a cookie. "Did you make these?" he asked. It felt a little awkward, standing there with Lucy. She knew him why he, as she'd said, didn't know anything about her. But he was determined to find out. He was at an age where he was not yet her godfather, but like with his sister, he felt a certain sense of protectiveness over Lucy, even after only hearing a few things about her from Percy, who didn't really know her yet either. "You should tell me about yourself," he said and took a bite out of the cookie. "If that's okay."
He was incredibly glad she was there, wallowing in his misery with him, even if he wasn't quite sure what he was feeling.