"Hm?" Steven asked, as if he hadn't heard. His expression became a grin, then, and he lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "It's nothing." While it wasn't unheard of for Steven to offer his home and food so freely, he rarely did it with such immediacy. He would feel entirely comfortable offering this young man a copy of his house key -- although he could not say why. "I'm sure you'd do the same for me."
The phrase brought a sense of deja vu -- it was the only phrase in Steven's vocabulary to describe the sort of shift in his perception, as though the words held an element of history somehow. Yet, before he could put his finger on the sentiment, it escaped him, leaving him feeling a bit foolish.
"This'll probably date me," Steven began, sliding effortlessly back into the conversation. "But I was lucky enough to live off the kindness of strangers for a lot of years. There were always people who disapproved and acted like we were trash, but a lot of that didn't come until later. It was a good time. And you would have loved Woodstock."