She considers the options. She doesn't want to use everything, but...

She nods to herself, and gets to work. Oven on, vegetables and sausages chopped up and tossed in liberal quantities of spice (she remembers what his meal at the restaurant smelled like), and put in the oven to roast at a low heat. Pasta gets put in a pan ready to be boiled. Then she looks between the sauces, and chooses one with a picture she recognises. (She'd be happier if there were the ingredients to just make the sauce, but she can work with what she has.) The sauce gets appropriately spiced, and left to simmer. She isn't sure how long Z is going to be, but once the sausage, vegetables and pasta are cooked, they can be added to the sauce and left over a low heat until Z is ready to eat.

He walks out of his room fairly soon after that.

"...oh my god."

He's just gonna...take a minute and look at the spotless living room.

Blaze flinches a little at the words (but she's never been punished for cleaning before). She hurries to find a bowl and ladles some of the pasta into it, finding a fork, and taking it over to Z, holding it out, more than a little nervously, but her hands are strangely steady. (Maybe she shouldn't have done this? But- but it was something useful?)

"...oh, you so didn't have to do all this..."

He takes it from her and beams.

"Thank you so much."

Blaze ducks her head, a tiny, shy smile on her lips, and blushing. "I-" she bites at her lip a little. "Like being busy."

He nods.

"I get that. But...still, thank you. Didn't have to be busy on my behalf."

There's a little table in the kitchen with a couple chairs at it – he puts the bowl down and gets two sodas out of the fridge before he sits down, nodding to the other chair.

"I wanted to," she mumbles nearly inaudibly as she perches on the edge of the seat, folding her hands together in her lap.

He nods.

"Then it's good you did it."

He takes a bite of the pasta.

...mmmm.

That reaction gets the shy smile again, and some of the tension bleeds out of her shoulders. She can do this, it's useful, it's a way to pay him back (even if he bought the ingredients in the first place.)

She definitely turned the premade sauce into something that could almost pass for homemade.

"M'glad you like it," she whispers.

He decides immediately that he wants to make her smile as much as possible. That is so cute.

“You’re a really good cook. I should get you some ingredients to play around with when I get to the store next.”

He thinks for a moment, and then follows that up– “And that way I get to eat your awesome cooking. Win/win.”

...and now she's blushing as well. And was that sound a muffled giggle?

"I- You. Don't have to?" she says quietly. "But- I. If you do I'll cook?"

...aww.

He nods.

“For sure.”

He takes another bite. Excellent and appropriately spicy!

...wait a second.

“Did you put any aside for yourself? This is pretty hot, and I know I’m a fan of that, but...”

She looks away. "I. Didn't think to?" It isn't a lie, but it seems to be leaning more towards not knowing she was allowed to than simple absent-mindedness. (And perhaps a little not expecting to be allowed to eat it.)

He nods.

"You're not–in trouble, or anything. But it's always fine to keep some for yourself, okay? At least with me."

"O-okay," she agrees, a little unsteadily, and not sounding entirely like she truly believes that.

...well, it's probably gonna be a process.

For now...today was pretty light on the self-injury, comparatively, but he is definitely hungry again, and this is good pasta. He eats with great satisfaction.

She watches him out of the corner of her eye, gaze mostly focused on the table top, that small smile curled on her lips. (She did something good.) Her fingers are twisting together again, but there's no uncomfortable looking angles.

So cute.

"Hey, you have food in the fridge, right?"

"...I. Guess?" she agrees, blinking. (She still hadn't really accepted that he meant that those leftovers were for her.)

"Well...dunno if you like eating with other people, but you can come eat with me if you want."

She hesitates for a moment (she is hungry), before fetching herself a bowl, and a small portion from the meal they brought back, and rejoining him at the table. She keeps one arm curled protectively around the bowl as she eats, but she does eat.

He keeps his eyes on his own food, and polishes off the bowl fairly quickly.

"...I should probably jump in the shower before I hang out here longer."

He's thrown the clothes he was wearing before back on.

She shifts unsurely, not sure exactly what he means by that. (Does he want her to...?)