"What is it?" He asked, curiously. Names, etymology - why not. But she added it soon after and it left him thinking. "There's lots of good Hoffmans though. A German writer, I liked - can't sit through the opera, but his stories are wonderful. You could always claim it if it mattered so much." He didn't care that much, but the red digits did stand out when he unfocused.
Old-fashioned. It brought an amused smile to his face. "Guess I am. No harm done. I've been called a lot worse." He shrugged, not caring. He finished up his soup, thoughtful as she went on. "It's good, really, I don't mind." This was the closest he'd gotten to a real interaction with someone since...well, since Maureen.
Which lead her to asking about her. Or something related to her. Chris swallowed hard, his hand clenching about his spoon. He might've talked about her, might've but - there was the snarky answer. No, Maureen was dead. Maureen'd been killed by- He swallowed again, realizing this wasn't helping. "No - no, they broke after the second day." It didn't say anything much at all.