He walks closer than he normally would, not quite within grabbing range, but almost. He doesn't want anyone to change their mind and haul him back. He doesn't want it.

The question doesn't quite shake him out of his anxious scanning of their surroundings, but it does at least get an answer. "She makes dinner most nights." Which he appreciates a lot, since he still can't really cook except for what she's shown him, to help.