Feelings were complicated, stupid things that caused Farren to feel all twitchy and uncomfortable. When it was someone she cared it about, she tried to deal with it so that she could be the best help to them that she could be, but when it was a stranger, she hardly cared. Or rather, she did not care enough to put up with how uncomfortable she felt. With Sam, it was a difficult position Farren found herself in. She liked him well enough to consider him a friend, hell even enough to call him family, but not knowing enough about him put that discomfort firmly in her veins.
And yet, because she was beginning to think of him as a member of the family, she found that fierce, protective streak rising within her. She desperately wanted to make things right for him and didn’t know how, a feeling that set a whole new sort of discomfort aflame within her. So, yes. Farren found herself in a situation that left her in an agitated state roughly ninety percent of the time.
“Oh no.” She grinned. Slightly. “See, Mom’ll never say anything one way or the other, but she loves to cook.” A trait that Farren shared. Cooking for the family was one of the few things that she did well and wanted to do, but she would never admit to it. “Don’t worry. She won’t feel put out or anything. Hell, if worst comes to worst, I’ll fix it. It’s not as good as Mom’s, but it’s nothing to sneeze at either.”