"Can't beat a good chamomile on a tough day," he agreed, as he slipped back into the easy movements of fixing her cup of tea. He wasn't looking at her while he continued, but he was still hyper-aware of her proximity. Any time she shifted her weight or changed her posture he saw it through the corner of his eye and filled in the details he couldn't see. He knew her habits well enough to extrapolate from her posture whether she was biting her nail, or looking down at her hands, or glancing around the room.

The water was halfway to boiled and he had prepared her mug, which left him with a gap in activity that he thought anyone would probably have filled with conversation. It wouldn't seem at all unnatural for him to ask her a question here. It might be more noteworthy if he didn't. So he had an opportunity; the question was what to do with it?

He shifted his weight, still not quite looking at her. "Visiting someone?" he asked, though of course he already knew the answer. It seemed like the right question to bridge into anything else he might care to ask.

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