In Anthony's honest opinion, he looked awful. Well, perhaps that was a bit much. He was wearing his nicest clothes, and he didn't have a hangover. Still. He couldn't help but be a bit biased. Then again, Embyr had no way of accessing his closet and seeing the ratted out jeans he had to wear these days thanks to limited funds. Ugh. He didn't like denim on a good day. Or a bad day, for that matter.
"Thank you," he started as he moved past her to reshelve the journals. "You don't have to wait, you know." This was his attempt to ease the tension and sheer awkward, right? It wasn't the first time an old acquaintance had come in and asked him to do something out of some weird obligation to Miss Manners.
He realized he was being inadvertently rude mid-shelf. Whoops. "Or we can eat. I'm never one to pass up free food." For the first time during this strange run-in, Anthony showed some trace of his former self and offered her a lazy half-grin. "Did you make them just for me? I didn't think you could cook."