"Think you can settle for napkins? I have plenty of those." Pete replied, proving this statement by handing over half of the small pile he'd brought back with him. "Consider it an I.O.U."
If anyone could relate to her situation it was probably Pete, and he wasn't feeling much like talking about it either. Instead he worked at getting himself comfortable, cracking the top off his root beer then taking a swig before leaning forward to set it on the table as well. "I'm not sure pasty-white is my color, really." He reasoned with a grin. "Everything I own would clash and then I'd have to buy a whole new wardrobe. And probably a cape and cowl or something. Start practicing my thick Transylvanian accent so people can have an even harder time understanding me." He knew his own accent wasn't bad at all, and hadn't had an issue with it for a couple years, but that didn't mean he couldn't poke fun at himself a little.
He tugged off the lids to his own dinner, but couldn't help stopping to watch her situation her own. He knew people had habits like that, and that there was a psychological thing regarding it, but everyone had quirks didn't they. "You know, I'd say next time I'd do the cooking, but I actually had a mishap with that the other day. Pizza's harder than it looks." He laughed a bit at that, though the delivery they'd gotten to compensate had been pretty darned good. "I'm really going to have to watch you one of these days."