"Yeah, there's probably one already, I just need to actually read what my owls bring to me for a change." Realizing that what he just said sounded as if he never read his mail, Theo elaborated, "Most of what I get on my desk is all flowery words and pink stationary from Tracey since she started working upstairs from me, so I've stopped paying attention to my mail if it doesn't look official. It saves me some time and prevents cavities. All her sugary sweetness is going to give me diabetes someday, I tell you."
He smiled at her over his dinner. She really seemed like a honestly nice girl to him, and it was nice to know people like that existed. "It's not pathetic. Maybe strange, but mostly just kind of you--'kind' doesn't really do you justice though. You're a better person than me. I'd laugh, for sure, but maybe just to myself. My mother might roll in her grave if she caught me being uncouth." More likely, his brother's ghost would chastise him if he ever returned to the estates, but well, details weren't important.
"You could still go for becoming a famous check; learning to cook's pretty easy. I figured it out after a while, and if I can, I swear anyone can," Theo said. It was true. He'd only taught himself rudimentary kitchen skills because he hated the idea of relying on others for something as simple as a meal, and he'd gotten a bit carried away from there. "That sounds so romantic--like finding your place at the sanctuary was destiny or something. You know you're lucky to have found work you love, right? Because I think I envy you for that."