Another little silence filled the space between them as he searched for a new topic, one that wasn't work. He understood that she'd be tired of talking about hers, and he really couldn't discuss much of his. It put a small strain on what they might actually discuss, but he finally found something.
"I'm finding out a bit more about my neighbors," he said, disposing of his empty bowl and spoon in a nearby trash can. He'd already told her about his elderly neighbor that he'd helped. "A couple down the hallway own a rather large dog that they view as their child. Another a bit farther on are just married, and there's a middle aged man who I don't think ever leaves his apartment except to go get groceries." He smiled a little. "I overheard the married couple talking about me after I closed my door. Apparently, they think I work for NASA." It was an amusing thought, and the smile grew. "He was wondering if I could get him some of that astronaut food."
They paused near a fountain and he looked at her again. "I told you before how my moving into that place was an attempt at normalcy. It's going very well, thanks to your help with the decorating. The apartment is very warm now, cozier, more friendly. It just brought to light one problem." The smile disappeared slowly. "Before, living on a very crowded helicarrier, surrounded by people constantly, I wasn't ever really alone. But then I moved and the space was mine. All mine. And without all the others around, I realized how little I socialized." Phil looked into the fountain, going quiet again.
"Outside of work, I was lonely. That, and your lovely company were one of the reasons I asked you to dinner. To fill a bit of that empty space." He idly wondered if that was a completely selfish reason, and was only half aware of one of his hands reaching for hers.