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Dominic Ramírez || Quetzalcoatl (plumageablaze) wrote in paxletalelogs,

He arched his eyebrows as Benjamin admitted his lack of knowledge, turning the unfinished quesadillas over in the pan. "Taco Bell is..." Dominic chuckled, shaking his head. "It's not bad, but it's not the best. See if you like these," he nodded towards the plate with several quesadillas upon it simply waiting to be devoured. Dominic went to one of his cupboards, where there were dishes stacked in an orderly fashion. He took down a couple for himself and Benjamin, placing them on the counter near his neighbor. "Oh, do you want a fork? I have plenty of napkins. Here." He motioned to a simple napkin holder, then dug quickly in one of the drawers for a clean fork, putting it by the plates.

Benjamin had fairly good manners, and Dominic was only assuming he probably didn't want to eat with his hands--it didn't bother Dominic in this case, despite his tendencies to do things neatly. But (and maybe it was only personal preference mingled with how he'd grown up) this sort of food didn't necessarily need utensils.

Giving Benjamin space to breathe, he leaned against the counter adjacent to the stove, loosely crossing his arms over his chest. From this position he could keep an eye on the food and still make conversation with his neighbor. The faint undercurrent of familiarity he'd initially felt after inviting Benjamin inside hadn't wavered, and it left him feeling curious, as well as a little on guard. This was a bit awkward, truth be told.

"Are you liking the area?" It was a relatively easy question to ask, just something to break the ice.