He's clearly used to navigating this space and doing things with one hand, so she can gather even without asking that this isn't a new injury for him. Going through the motions of putting the kettle on and getting the coffee started, he's shuttling between the stove and the microwave to get her her food, making a quick stop at the pantry for the black pepper and the mixed herbs in case plain old mac and cheese is too pleb for her palate.
At first he doesn't really want to say much about his left arm, but his hardened resolve and gruff exterior suffers the slightest flinch when he catches a glimpse of scar tissue on his way back to make the coffee. His fault for his eyes wandering maybe. Very odd to be in a marriage where he never has to talk if he doesn't want to, with somebody who has matching scars. Must be somebody's idea of a hilarious joke.
"I lost it in the war, in 1945. I had a metal arm, black with gold--" He draws random swirls with his finger on his missing upper arm. "Inlay. They took it." He hasn't really shared that with anyone, but. Well, who knows? If she sees a black metal left arm lying around, she might feel inclined to at least let him know where it is even if she can't bring it back to him.
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At first he doesn't really want to say much about his left arm, but his hardened resolve and gruff exterior suffers the slightest flinch when he catches a glimpse of scar tissue on his way back to make the coffee. His fault for his eyes wandering maybe. Very odd to be in a marriage where he never has to talk if he doesn't want to, with somebody who has matching scars. Must be somebody's idea of a hilarious joke.
"I lost it in the war, in 1945. I had a metal arm, black with gold--" He draws random swirls with his finger on his missing upper arm. "Inlay. They took it." He hasn't really shared that with anyone, but. Well, who knows? If she sees a black metal left arm lying around, she might feel inclined to at least let him know where it is even if she can't bring it back to him.