you handle it with grace."
She was not afraid, does he not see this?

"Just a kiss of the flame then."
She winks as she graces his rather aristocratic toes with a coquetish glance. (She and her scribe are feeling bookish tonight.)
A cast iron skillet, lovingly cared for finds its way onto the grill for the eggs.
"I don't imagine you asked for this, but I believe-

chin, she smiles at him.
"But the blanket is a look, too."

a wayward strand of hair back with her fingertips, she leaves his side to return to the grill.
"How do you like it made?"

She pauses.
"My friend, Shahid, left clothes the last time he stayed for a sabbatical.
I think you're close in size, he wouldn't mind if you use them, I'm sure."

Tapping her-

He feels like home to her. In fact, what others co sider the ordinary feels odd or not quite right to her.
Whereas Jack is right. His presence makes her feel as if her world is turning properly on its axis for the first timenin quite a while.
"I will try whatever you make."
She says.

Smoothing-

to himself.

Almost before Jack can finish, she wipes her hands on a towel and pads barefooted to his side.
"I am not anyone."
Her arms slip around him in a gentle embrace and she she whispers in his ear.
"I am me, and I think we have known each other all our lives."

It's not something she had planned for herself, but instinct serves...
"Do you like to cook?"
She hums unconsciously as she begins to set things out for them and lights the grill.

Yes, she saw everything, but it did not feel strange to her. All she wanted to do was to comfort him as he came back-

a few moments before it can be grilled anyway.
Bringing it, and a basket with grilling tools and spices, Harmony floats out to join him.

She will make anything he likes. She has a little grill outside that is perfect for a steak.
"I'll meet you out there in just a moment."
She needs coffee as well. Trusting he can find his way, she takes a plate from the cupboard and pulls a steak from her refrigerator.
It will need to rest for -

"Would you take this tray?"
She pours the coffee into a carafe and sets it on a tray.

She touches his shoulder as she passes by pn her way to get a basket of muffins.

Steak. Would he like steak?

She ponders.

After what he's been through, a peaceful breakfast will do him good.

...and if she touches his hair, we'll so be it.

Thereabouts...

She may have been offering him breakfast, outside.

And...in another thread, she was stroking his beautiful hair.