[ a tilt of his head, and he drops his hand from where he'd laid it on mithrun's arm, leaning back against the chaise in order to watch him. ]

About— ah, three, three and a half months now? You'd left the Canaries, our birthdays passed. Yeah, three. [ cute that he remembers their May birthdays, right. ]

Why? [ he's concerned again, sitting back up abruptly, and moving to sit close to mithrun once more, knee propped on the cushion, brushing mithrun's thigh. ] What's that got do with this place?