[He meets Eren's eyes and he's keenly aware of just how close they are. He swallows dryly and ducks his gaze after a moment, glancing toward the pot on the stove instead. It's really starting to smell good, like garlic and thyme.]

Writing sort of... runs in the family, you could say.

[Eren continues with those simple but observant words. He feels like he's heard this before, not in the same words but in that gentle tone of voice, in the warm rush that fills every corner of him like water pushing over the edges. He's similarly overwhelmed. And tired. And... grateful. So grateful.

He smiles more in his eyes than his lips.]

Something we have in common. There's no point in pretending to be something you're not.

[He touches Eren's cheek with his other hand, and shifts in his seat to get up. Someone needs to stir the pot. But before that, he leans over to press their foreheads together.]

... Thank you.