Even though she'd written and said she'd come, a part of him was still thinking maybe she wouldn't. At the very least, he'd expected it to be a while before she did. (Well, he'd had a small, fleeting hope that she might come right away, within twenty minutes of him returning from the post office, the way that Jo Smith had when he'd invited her — but Zelda was not Jo Smith, and he'd known she wasn't going to come as soon as she got the letter, so he couldn't even be properly disappointed when she didn't. Zelda was a working professional who was busy — specifically busy trying to save his ship — not a bored girl tending a shop she didn't much care about. She was also, of course, not the sort of girl who made a habit of showing up alone at men's flats).

He'd expected to spend Wednesday doing absolutely nothing, at any rate. He'd gone out for groceries that morning and then taken an early afternoon bath, because... well, why not? It wasn't as though he had anything pressing to be doing instead. After that he'd settled down with a book — but as he hadn't expected company, he was only half-dressed when he heard her voice call out. "Hey!" he answered back immediately, tossing the book aside and scrambling for a shirt, which he was still in the process of buttoning as he headed into the front room.

"Sorry," he said with a sheepish smile. "I didn't expect you so soon. But, uh, I'm happy you're here, all the same."