In soft words, [b]"I'm your friend too." [/b]

His eyes narrowed as he paid extra close attention as she respelled her name using his finger. S. Had it been earlier while locked up in the safehouse, under the tutor's expectant gaze, Ezner might've felt self-conscious and frustrated at having spelled her name wrong. But now, he just broke into the widest grin, broad and toothy. He knew how to spell her name now. 

Then she was up, and bringing him with her, inviting him into her house. Before, he had looked around, knowing the sort of things people might say or think about Elisabeth if they'd seen her bringing a slave into her home. But now, he simply stood, nodding his head, [b]"I would like that very much."[/b] He was still grinning about her dishes comment, understanding the joke now that had to be explained to him last time, at her last house.

And that was when Ezner remembered that he had a house too. 

One that was much larger and more grand than her own as she led him through the door. One that reminded him more of the house he'd lived in as a slave to Mr. Dey than the cozy lived in home that Elisabeth had first brought him into. Stepping across the threshold, his eyes fell upon the couch she had offered to him to sleep upon. And there upon it, two blankets. He stopped there, just inside the door way, his memories from way back then rushing forth.

It really had been so long since they'd last seen each other. And he was a different man for sure. And she seemed different too, though he wasn't sure how. They hadn't gotten to know much of each other, at least in salient details, but they had reached out for each other in another way. They were both what the other had needed at the time. And the look upon Ezner's face was a mix of a man remembering both an old lover and a painful past as he stared at that couch.

After a long moment, he closed the door, only now seeing how dirty his hands were from work. Everything about him was dirty. He normally bathed himself immediately after work. [b]"Can I help you with dinner?"[/b] He said, seeking permission, and then once more, [b]"Can I clean up myself? I don't want to make a mess in your house."[/b] There was a bit of an intonation change in both of those questions. The automatic reply of a slave asking permission to do anything that wasn't explicitly told to him.