[Honestly, perhaps the company is enough. And getting the kitchen into a little better shape. Once he'd made a mess of it, it'd stayed a mess -- the prospect of cleaning it all up was too much when baking more afterwards was easier.

He piles up some flour from the counter and scoops it into a bowl. Good enough. It'll be fine once it's baked back into something.]

You know, at one time, such a thing would've been terrifying. [He's fairly sure she knows, considering... well, he isn't the sort to be tied down. They've not spoken of changing their relationship because, he suspects, it works for them both. And it seems to have worked fine 800 years down the line, too. He had not felt tied down, and neither had she. They had their partners, their fun... but they always came together in the end.

He'd called her love. Goddess. In the very clearly literal way, but as a teasing nickname, too. It does give him a new source of amusement to imagine dropping that on her next time they're together. Just to surprise her.

He pauses in his wiping, leaning against the counter.] Were you honestly worried about that? Because of your... past?