"And, therefore, I was not upset."

"Good."

"Anyway, I suggested it. It would have been either hypocritical to get offended after that or pointlessly confrontational if I were expecting to be offended. And that's not the particular kind of lacking social grace that I find myself lacking."

"I haven't actually found you to be deficient in any important social grace," May remarks. "Maybe rumors of your poor socialization are greatly exaggerated."

"I do alright with people I care about. Strangers in general I mostly ignore if I don't have a reason not to and if I don't like someone and I'm forced to interact with them anyway I have a hard time holding my tongue."

"I am frequently tempted beyond my capacity for self-restraint to be flippant when I think of a good way to snark at someone."

"Snark is more benign than the kind of thing that sometimes comes out of my mouth when I am obliged to speak to someone I cannot respect."

"...Do I want to know?"

"I call people idiots with regrettable frequency. To start. I have gotten more adept over the years at keeping my mouth shut when I'm tempted to say something no one involved is going to be happy I said, but finding tactful ways of rephrasing often takes longer than it's feasible to pause in a conversation without awkwardness."

"So if I ever see you staring awkwardly at someone you're trying to figure what to say besides 'you idiot'?"

"Or something, but that one's statistically likely, yes."

"I will try to helpfully fill in any such gaps I notice."

"...Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"It's easier when I'm around you anyway. I can distract myself."

"Hee."

Mild blushing! Gosh, this sure is tasty soup.

May has already finished eating. She clears the table. Ren picks up a crochet project that has been left on the sofa and puts on some music.

Kanimir glances curiously at the crochet. "What are you making?"

"Vest!" says Ren. "It was going to be a sweater but the sleeve didn't work and I'm not confident it'd work any better on a second try."

"Best of luck."

"I want to work on spells!"

Upstairs they go, then! May emails everybody the spreadsheet, plugs her laptop in to charge, and says, "I have some gray copies of the boiling spell if you want to trace one now instead of waiting for tomorrow? To check if I can stop you casting and if so whether I have to be touching you or the water or what."

"Sure. And whether I can just refrain from casting on my own, of course."