[He can't sleep, but that's nothing new. Perhaps after seven years of no longer needing it, sleeping and dreaming does not return to him so swiftly simply because he has his old body back. And that's fine, too.
Henry wanders when he cannot sleep. The bleakness of nighttime is calming to him, whereas others might wish to stay indoors, comforted by lamplight. It's usually quiet at this hour, and he needn't worry about running into those he has to humor with conversation. But tonight, for some reason, there's movement within their shared living space.
Light in their newly renovated kitchen. Footsteps. Who on earth is up at this hour? Henry adjusts his course, and crosses over to the kitchen entrance, peering in like a shade at the threshold.]
[ It was a little disappointing when their newly furnished kitchen didn't come with any actual food but Alec was able to scrounge up enough stuff from the diner for a late-night omelet adventure.
He's being pretty quiet all things considered, but he's still not used to sharing space, and it's a small miracle that Henry's sudden appearance doesn't cost him a finger in the middle of chopping veggies. He still jumps a little, barking out in a harsh whisper, ]
[Lightly, fairly. He steps into the kitchen properly, so at least he's not haunting the entrance. It's so very... pink. But it's clean, and it has much more utility than before. The cartoonish little unicorns plastered on the wallpaper don't bother him.]
Isn't it a little late to be fussing in the kitchen?
[ God damn. He already knew that his midnight forays into the kitchen wouldn't stay secret forever, sharing a dorm with nine other people, but he at least hoped for a little more privacy. And for it to be literally anyone other than Henry.
Anyway, laid out are a few eggs, some veggies and simple lunch meat in various stages of being diced up, a bowl and a skillet. Looks pretty omelete-y! Also of note, Alec has his sleeves rolled up, revealing a series of solid black bands tattooed into his arms, starting at his wrists and spaced out from there. ]
If you're gonna gawk at least do it like a normal person.
[Wow. Henry straightens but moves aside, so that he can “gawk” from beside Alec. He recognizes the ingredients, of course, and can assume that he’s probably going toss together an omelet of some nature — but that’s about the stretch of his cooking knowledge, unless he wants to dive a little deeper into his own head to unearth something fairly useless. So he doesn’t.
Instead:]
I’m just curious. I figured you’d be chopping away at something a lot less mundane if you were going to the trouble of hiding your meals away in the dead of night.
[His eyes do track to those dark, tattooed bands, though. Interesting.]
[ Chop chop chop chop. Alec is definitely using that knife with an efficiency that makes normal people fearful for their fingers. Veggies go in the bowl. ]
Besides, we're all adults here. Or adult enough. Everyone else can take care of themselves.
[ Whether intentional or not, that little remark seems to strike something, though the only evidence is a slight, slight pause in his chopping. Really, it's hard to tell just what it's a reaction to, if anything. ]
[That slight pause is noted, because Henry misses very little when he’s paying proper attention—and what else is he going to pay attention to right now, anyhow?—and while curious, he can’t be sure what to attribute it to.]
That. Cracking eggs without getting shells in them. How high to heat the stove, and for how long. Any of it.
[Small things to some, unattainable to others.]
Those in-charge at the lab didn’t care about teaching anyone to cook. Priorities were elsewhere.
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