[Oddly enough, that's a question that he doesn't get often — usually because most people wouldn't dare to suggest that anything even could be wrong with him to begin with. It draws him out of his thoughts almost immediately, snapping him back into the present moment — where he abruptly takes stock of the crumbs on her mouth and the half-bitten quiche in her hand, and, well — now it's a dice roll, isn't it.]
no subject
Fine. Just thinking.
[He nods slightly at the remains of the quiche.]
Let me have that. I assume you're done with it.