"What about you?" He turned the subject back to her, more interested in hearing about someone else than thinking about his home and everything he missed. "Where did you live, before you were brought here?" He had assumed somewhere else in America, but then again, it wasn't always wise to make assumptions in this place.
He was interested, but he didn't question her further. It would have been impossible to miss that she wasn't willing, or didn't want, to discuss the subject all that much. And that was fine with him. He dealt with enough seriousness when he was back at the inn. It was the entire reason he'd come to work at the gallery today, and why he'd decided to spend another few hours here in the cafe.
"No, the cinnamon makes it worse." He smiled, amused by the face she pulled. "We all have things we don't like, I suppose. I cannot understand how anyone could eat mushrooms. Enjolras keeps ordering pizza with mushrooms on it."