He winced at her I know. No matter how many years he'd spent at Willowbrook, certain expectations never left him. One was that whoever he was speaking to did not know the immediate future - or even the detailed present - and he found himself frequently off-balance around Emily. Certain niceties usually weren't needed. Announcements, guesses... but the one he really appreciated was eye contact. It was a small thing, but for a man who frequently spoke to shoulders or the middle-distance, not needing to try to look Emily in the eye was a deep relief.
"No, no, I'm fine," Jacinto said, settling his tote down onto the kitchen counter. He looked up between setting out ingredients to smile at the boy by the television. "Hey Noah. Hope you're hungry." Children - they were easier. He could look them in the eye without flinching, talk to them easily. He wasn't sure why they were exempt and unfrightening, but he appreciated the simplicity of talking to a child.
Emily's kitchen was reasonably familiar; he found a frying pan and a cookie sheet without much trouble. Washing his hands before he set to work, he glanced towards her over his shoulder. "Are you okay? You look... tired." Women didn't like hearing that sort of thing, he knew, but Emily's shoulders had a slump to them and her eyes drooped. Either she was tired, or something was wrong.