Ketchup is a condiment Paul at first thought belonged on some variety of dessert, from the taste of it, but he's discovered some of the secrets of its alchemy since. The sweetness of it fades when blended with the salty-savory omurice, and Paul devours the meal in front of him with an elbow on the table and decorum totally abandoned. He's shameless enough to steal a bite of Kaworu's with his chopsticks as he leans over, grinning crookedly.

An outsider might not even recognize the wolfish looking boy if they caught him in passing, his eyes still clouded in cosmetic black and his ears studded like a sailor's. Those closest to him, now lost, would know this Paul; those closest to him here are learning this look, bit by bit.

"Not before we clean up." He nudges the leg of Kaworu's chair with his foot. "But you can stay here to distract Midoriya-kun."

He pushes away from the table and stands up, stretching luxuriously, and knits his hands behind his head as he considers the two boys at the table.

"Or do you want to go up to bed with him?" He asks, nonchalantly.