( Yes, that trail of logic tracks decently enough, and his lack of asking for clarification seems to convey he understands. But as far as social charm, isn't he all right the way he is? She's sure she wouldn't mind something as mild as holding his hand or embracing him if he needed it, and they've only just met. It's never so easy, though, is it? To accept things like that when you've gone so long without. Her hand turns over on the table with loosely curled fingers, about to reach for her coffee, but their plates are brought in just as he's remarking on how he wouldn't have anticipated her lack of knowledge in the kitchen and her shoulders are shaking with a quiet laugh.

The scent of the different mushrooms used is softened by the cream and she thanks the waiter with a gracious incline of the head and a smile still wide from his not-quite-teasing as he blankly remarked on her skillset. She's already twirling up a forkful of pasta and letting it sit midair as it cools. )

That's correct, unfortunately enough. I was always in an environment where it was provided for me or I had the funds to simply buy it elsewhere, like this restaurant. And I was always traveling, often without anything but a campfire to cook over. We had these meals from various militaries you could cook with just sun or a chemical packet to heat up water without a fire to warm the food inside; it was quite tasty after years of improvements made, haha. It'd come in a little box smaller than this plate and it gave you plenty of energy to keep going.

But you're right, I've always kept busy with my work, otherwise. I'm not too picky. I just eat whatever is given to me if I don't have much choice.

( Yeah girl, sell those MREs and pocket rations and life on the road. Dummy. You have delicious pasta right in front of u, stop talkin about cardboard. )

And what about you? Did you ever cook?