Elan ignored her for a moment, turning down the flame on the garlic. Too hot to truly extract the flavor; a low heat was necessary. Leaving the skillet unattended, he rummaged through the piles of cans strewn across the counter.

"I am preparing dinner, Shelley. Would you like to help? It would greatly expedite the process."

It would be nice for them to interact together on something with a relatively low chance of him ending up in a towering rage, and her in bitter tears. They had a difficulty doing that even while sleeping, so it would certainly be a change.