After he dressed at your insistence, he made dinner- his insistence. He raided the fridge at incredible speed, finding ingredients you didn't even realize you had. The meal was prepared quickly, or at least it seemed to be quick; you spent the entire time watching Leo's broad shoulders as he leaned over the stove. It almost came as a surprise when he turned around with two plates in his hands and placed them both in front of you.

You stared at them for a moment before looking back to him, confused.

“You aren't eating?”

His eyebrows rose a bit in surprise, as though he hadn't considered the thought before. “I can eat, but I don't need to. I'm not certain how I would process it.”

“Oh,” you said, realization dawning on you. You had somehow forgotten that he wasn't human; the few hours he had been there had proved his distinct personality.

“Eat,” he insisted, pushing the tableware towards you from across the table. “I was programmed with knowledge of cultured cuisine and food preparation, it will be good.”

You smiled a little as you lifted your fork. Rice and chicken curry were beautifully plated on one side, stir-fried veggies on the other. “I'm sure it will be great,” you answered. You were ravenous; anything would be good. You scooped some of the rice and curry up and ate it, happy at the warmth that spread with it.

“Wow,” you said, grinning despite yourself. “This is delicious.” He responded with a light smile, pleased with your reaction. You motioned towards the seat next to you as you went back for more.

“Even if you aren't going to eat, you can at least sit.”

The smile widened. “Of course.” He pulled out the chair right next to you in one smooth motion and seated himself. Leo watched you contentedly as you continued to eat until the plates were empty and you were leaning back in your chair happily. He reached out and plucked the dishes from the table and set to washing them, and the pans they were cooked in, immediately.

You stood and went to stand next to him by the sink. At first it was reactionary, not wanting to make a “guest” do the dishes, though you knew that Leo was something other than that. As he pushed his hands into the soapy water, knowing just what he was led to a panic, and you grabbed his arms away.

“What is it?” He asked immediately, reaching with his other hand for a towel to dry it so he could hold your other elbow supportingly. “Is something wrong?” His eyebrows were pulled together in a confused concern as you tried to make your words work.

“...Can you get wet?” You questioned after a moment, looking into the half-filled sink. He let go of you and slumped a bit in relief as you dropped his wet arm.

“Of course,” he responded, turning back to the dishes. You felt your heartbeat slow from a panic you didn't even realize you were experiencing.

He stuck his arms fully into the soapy water and began to scrub. You leaned against the counter. “I need to be able to shower,” he continued, but that just confused you more.

“Why do you need to shower?”

He glanced at you with one eyebrow raised. “I'm made to be a lover. Why do you think I need to be able to go in the shower?”

You blushed and didn't respond: he went back to the dishes.