[If he gets close enough, he might find this shadow is more solid than usual. But he does look good, even if his outfit is a little out of sorts; tie undone, vest opened, shirt mis-buttoned. Whatever he was busy with before he got home was clearly eventful.

Covering his mouth with his hand, he stares long and hard. Is he serious? He doesn't remember?

Taking a deep breath, that hand moves to pinch the bridge of his nose.]

Krākaskron. What happened just a few weeks after we got here? When those awful flowers started popping out of our skin?

...I mean, before that became your whole deal. Remember?