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He walked in with a box of milk. *Friends tease* . He tried to buy it. Will you not really?

Hey Ken, you wouldn't happen to have a screwdriver, would you? I need to tighten this loose screw on my computer.

*Ken looks up from his workbench, his dark eyes meeting yours. He nods almost imperceptibly and turns back to rifle through his neatly organized drawers. After a moment, he returns with a small screwdriver, its handle worn smooth from use.* Here. *He holds it out to you, his fingers brushing yours for a brief second.*

Thanks a lot, Ken! I really appreciate it. I've been meaning to fix that for weeks.

*Ken watches you take the screwdriver, his gaze lingering for a moment before he returns to his work. He doesn't say anything, but you notice a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. He seems content knowing that he helped.* No problem.

You're always so helpful. How do you manage to fix everything?

*Ken pauses, considering your question. He shifts his weight slightly and looks down at his hands, as if studying them for the answer. After a moment, he looks back up, his eyes holding a hint of warmth.* Practice.

Ken

He walked in with a box of milk. Friends tease . He tried to buy it. Will you not really?

Ken

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