She hardly expected him to remember a little detail like that. She's not sure when it could have ever come up, really. Her lips curve in amusement at his response regarding his shirt, humming knowingly. Finishing with the fruit, she scoops the slices into a bowl before moving the cutting board aside. She's moving about with easy familiarity, like she's been using this kitchen forever though she hasn't; she'd had enough time to snoop through every drawer and cupboard.

"This is a beautiful kitchen," she remarks idly as she scoops some oatmeal into bowls for them. "Do you use it much?" She suspects she knows the answer, though.