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Somehow he didn't feel right listening in. Sure, she probably knew that he could hear every word, and had been invited to come along in the first place, but it felt awfully private, this meeting between her and... Well, he couldn't exactly see who it was. Someone of utmost importance to her, judging from her tone. And maybe someone she missed very dearly. Friendly though, by the way she described him, but he was way too enmeshed in the mentality that nobody of their right mind would be liking something (yes, thing) like him. Years of isolation and self-blame was still the only thing holding him back from recovery.
Like there even was recovery at this point. The research papers scattered all across the table showed no signs of any potential cure for the 'damned condition'.

Then there was that dissonance he felt. Second time in his life, making everything he was seeing in his head seem all the more image-like and unreal, he could just put a hand out and realize that he was just imagining things after all. Ah, he was probably due for an appointment with the diagnostician again. He was going to get snark for it, he knew. And before he could float off anywhere else, he got rudely yanked back down to earth by his roommate using a suplex on him by surprise, crashing his head onto the bed. Well, best he lost that train of thought anyway, it was not going to do him much good.

Wrestling himself from that metal-armed grip and complaining about having to sterilize the bedsheets the third time in the week, he hoped that the fluffy-haired android would not ask about the eyepatch. Oop, too late, he noticed. And nope, he was not exactly pleased with it. But... strange? He got left alone this time. He expected a lecture late into the night from that motormouth on how he should be checking to make sure not a single trace of him was left anywhere, but got nothing other than a quiet stare and a slow wheeling out the door. Something was wrong with that guy.

Before he could dwell on that, he heard something about food. Oh, food! Speaking of which he completely forgot to make anything remotely resembling a tongue or a digestive system. Well, the can did not exactly have the insulation tumbler's space he was used to. But food! And what did she bring in? If it was edible, then what a pity he could only feast his eye on it... He should save those jokes for the patients with high fevers, it'll bring their temperature right down.

A low tapping came from inside the can, which was his best way of expressing his curiosity.

((XD Don't worry, it happens. Pretty close keys on the board!))

"...."

The lack of any further reaction probably meant he was fine. Fine being defined by mentally comparing his own cooking with the food he could see out of the can, and weirdly by sight alone, his own food tasted pretty bland. Ah, must be jealousy. But then he hardly ever ate outside, so when presented with all that food he had to down his soup as fast as possible to quit wishing it was something else. Sure, he got weird looks from the little girl sitting beside him eating her own dinner, but it was better than the alternative of dozing off at the table.

The eye rocked in its half-lidded socket, as if it was a head shaking itself in exasperation. Oh, he was going to get the hangover medicine for her arrival tomorrow if she was going to drink that much. Not that it was out of the way, just a quick trip to the pharmacy and out again. Convenient enough for a person with double vision and a foot full of stubbed toes to get to. But it could wait till tomorrow, he was already at home after his shift, and going out at night would cause unwanted curiosity. Oh well. He trusted her to not somehow lose his eye in her stupor, of course. Looking for it while trying to figure out what he was looking at was hard to pull off without too many banged foreheads and smashed feet.

Perhaps, he wanted to tell her, if he even managed to make it that long without any major mishaps or having to move off somewhere, then maybe. Even then it was a very far-fetched maybe, for a few months (was it even a few months? More than that?) was already enough to turn his (life?) upside down three times over.

But oh dear - looks like long distance communication isn't enough to completely sever any involuntary reactions. Condensation had already appeared on the sides of the can, good thing the lights were out since he hoped she missed that too, and it mirrored his blushing face. Sure, he told himself all he wanted that it was just the cold, frostbitten cheeks begone, tell himself that all day.

So tomorrow, right. He stuck a reminder post-it to the door of the fridge, the can giving one last hop and settling down for the night, and slid the eyepatch back over the empty socket.
And forgot to watch for the fridge door. Bang. Sounds of a shuffling came from the bedroom, and out popped a sleepy little girl to see what's the matter. After a good bout of assuring her he was just after a snack he ushered her off to bed.

Oh, and a cup of coffee to last until Amarante's plane touched down, then. Never mind trying to sleep with the odd timings, besides, it was not like his colleagues noticed, they all thought he was a vampire of sorts anyway. A couple of shades darker in eyebags would not hurt much.

Yes, he was aware that he probably was being followed. But try as he might, he could not place who it is that was tailing him. Then again, why was he paranoid? It was not like he was setting out to sap some unfortunate person's health and snuff out his life afterwards. Not today, at least. Today was not a good day to be getting his hands dirty, that was not a very sanitary thing to do before handling people or your own organs.

He was there at the cafe in the same hour that he woke up - shift not due until late afternoon that day - and had asked for a cup of hot, sweet coffee, his order sounding a lot more rushed than the last time he came in here. After taking his cup and leaving his payment on the counter he made a beeline for the back of the back of the cafe, in a seat that had a relatively unobstructed view of all the windows. Fear was creeping onto his shoulder.

Oh, was that - oh yes! It's Amarante, just in time. Maybe he was just that, just paranoid. Sighing in relief, he waved her over, completely dropping his guard from anyone's eye who was watching, and a pair of long white ears just peeking out from the furthest window.

"So, how did the trip... I mean. Um."

Smooth, really smooth. Asking someone how their trip was when you've pretty much seen everything they had while bringing you around was a nope. Great, so early in the day and already he had messed up.

"... Ahem. Um, welcome back, Ama."

That might be a bit better, if he didn't sound so excruciatingly formal, as usual.

Cold. Her hand was so warm against his face. Before his head froze up again he quickly nodded, trying to assure her that he was fine. Insomnia was not a very problematic thing to him, if anything it was useful but impractical.

"I thought you were so eager to keep it safe? I expected to have to tempt you with something else in exchange."

No no no, don't smile, don't smile! He can crack jokes, but no smiling! Don't want to scare away all the patrons no - what.

A present?

Cake! But a present... And the cake's big, that was going to be a bit of a problem to hide in the fridge. But cake! Even if he had been watching her nearly the entire time during her trip, how did he miss a cake?! He was speechless for a moment, then quickly recovered. Right.

"U-Um... Thank you, Ama! That was v-very thoughtful of you. A-And... um..."

Yeah, said the wrong things. His face was turning red again.

"... Would you want to share? But I'm not sure if the same 'no outside food' applies to the owner as well, so... um..."

Though, it seems that the chocolate has attracted an unwanted guest. A small white rabbit hops up onto the window and watches the cake curiously, a strange metal sphere in its hands. As quickly as it had appeared, it hopped off the sill and disappeared.

What wager? Hmm... He had probably forgotten. Hopefully it was not anything too important. He could remember if he owed anyone anything but the opposite? Might as well be looking for a needle in a box of scalpels. Same goes for his own vision, anything beyond his immediate arm-range was pretty much unnoticed with the other eye still in the can.

"... I'm kind of worried that if I bring it home, someone else would either throw it out or eat it all without my knowledge. So, why not?"

He gets up and takes two pairs of fork and spoon from the counter, then returns and hands one to her. Someone was learning how to be sociable, hooray!

He looks at her, then looks at his fork, then the cake, then his gloves. Well, that's one con about having to keep insulated all the time! No can do about unhygienic handling of food, and this was a public place anyway, he should not be doing that. And he had lacked the foresight to take a knife, too. Such an idiot, have to make an extra trip back to the counter just to get a knife.

"... I think this should suffice?"

He had absolutely no intention of taking the gloves off. Worst case scenario was that he touched something other than the utensil or the cake with them, or accidentally touched her. Because he had rushed out of the house earlier on he had also completely forgotten to take a bottle of emergency antiseptic with him. He should be more careful, he knew, but why the rush and carelessness? Hmm... Anyway. He took the cake out from the box - oh wow, it looks really pretty! - and cut an extra big slice for her.

"Nothing much, just the same as usual," he mutters, trying to continue the conversation. "Just a few laughs here and there about not taking care of myself better."

Of course, he neglected to tell her that sudden bout of concerned lecturing a certain co-worker dragged him aside for, and also the million and one stubbed toes he had to suffer, and his reading glasses falling off every time he had to look down to get a book from the shelf. And that there was one eye-bandage-glasses combo in the house already, too.