Brannon chuckled, "Yeah, but I like Twinkies." Truth.
He nodded, offering a smile over toward her as he leaned down to tug off his boots, "Yeah, yeah. You can't cook for shit," he teased. "I bet your cooking's not as bad as you think, you know." He lifted his brows in a bit of surprise when she tossed one of his blankets around his shoulders. Toeing off his other boot the rest of the way, he straightened up to reach for the blanket to help get it around him.
"Thank you," he tilted his head back enough to eye her with both amusement and adoration. Studying her, he gave Natasha a gentle nod, "couldn't've done it without you, though." His mom would have liked Natasha, he decided. She was a sweet and caring woman. Didn't hurt that she was pretty either.
The very thought made one corner of his lips tug upward in that crooked lopsided smile of his, "I'll see about getting some soup," he assured her.
Moving to slide over a bit, he nodded toward the spot next to him, "you wanna sit for a bit?" he gave a look around at his blankets all tucked and tied in various places here and there above and around his bed, "I've got this nice blanket fort we can hang out in," He said with amusement before letting blues settle back on her face, "it's not as fancy as your rooftop probably is, but hey."