Surely there's middle ground between "complete stranger" and "romantic partners," no?

[At this point she's aware she's arguing for arguments' sake. This is unlikely to deter her.]

Oops. Power-nap?

I'm obviously no expert, but I'm not sure it does? People will kiss some random stranger after enough drinks, then wander off to pass out in a gutter.

That would be a rather generous classification, given how poorly my joke landed.

Is that the metric for marriage, now?

[She casts a sideways look at his left hand.]

It all comes back to bread, doesn't it. I really must find a good baker...

I will say, that does sound a hell of a lot better than what I've managed.

And didn't she feel it, leaning briefly on the counter. Exhaustion felt so much deeper than usual.

"Harder to distract myself from racing thoughts at night, I suppose, and harder to sleep when my mind wants to turn over every bloody detail."

With a cord from her pocket, she sweeps her long hair into a nearly-immaculate bun and crosses to the sink to wash her hands.

"The weather and the quiet were perfect for training and for study. I honestly made quite a bit of progress. I just... haven't been sleeping well."

Her eyes widen with alarm, but he saves himself from a faceplant into the dirt before she has to intervene.

"Especially this time of year, it [should] reek. Thank you..." As she steps through the door, she hangs her cloak on a nearby rack and unlaces her boots, setting them neatly aside.

Well, I wouldn't really know what my thing [is,] I've only been teaching myself about a week.

...Which means I should likely keep a more open mind and practice with those more experienced.

[Being inept in front of another, though? Mortifying.]

...........That was meant to be a joke.

...Perhaps. If I'm honest, I've only had them poached or softboiled before. Maybe they're always terrible when fried?

[She has even more doubts on this than the tiny sandwiches, but she's at least [trying] to be polite to the helpful stranger.]

Who's to say he won't be Mattias Ko–

Wait, why am I entertaining this? We aren't even together.

Not you, there's enough white-haired trauma over here already.

Apparently.

I don't think eggs like [me]–

[No, that's stupid, they're inanimate. The stove is driving her to madness. She huffs.]

They only turn to rubber.

I don't think I like the tone of that wheeze.

His last name is Bread, I think I'm going to need to find an [exceptional] baker.

[She is writing this down, even if she looks dubious. Those little things actually impressed people...?]