Her brows went up as she watched him stumble around the kitchen, looking for something. She wasn't really sure what. When he made note that she was still up she started wondering what time it really was but then he was stripping off and her eyes sort of bulged. "Terence, what's wrong with you?" she asked, though she had a fair idea. The lists were forgotten as she stood and walked toward the kitchen.
"Oh I do not think that cooking is a good idea," she told him, eyeing him warily and trying not to stare at his chest. She knew she should be used to it by now but how did you get used to that?! Gingerly she picked up the shirt he'd discarded, only to be greeted with the rank smell of stale beer. She folded it but dropped it back on the floor.
"Perhaps you should just get something out of the icebox," she suggested, trying to figure out what she was supposed to do in this situation.