[He leans back a bit, taking a deep breath before giving her a single nod. He cares about her, as much as he doesn't want to admit it or allow himself to get attached here. And he's more than willing to open up to her like she'd done for him.]

Anything specific? [He plays with the corner of one of the fancy cloth napkins.] I guess, since you gave me childhood stories, I can tell you mine. No demon-pact, at least not that I know of, but my parents died when I was young too.

I was seven, but my memories of them are pretty vague and... sometimes I kind of wonder if anything I do remember might just be me trying to fill in gaps with memories I don't really have, y'know? But I remember my mom being nice. Caring. I don't really remember much of my dad. And I don't remember that night, but I've read the police report. [He sounds fairly detached as he talks about it all. It's always felt like he's talking about somebody else's life when he talks about his parents.] There was a shootout. The official report is it was a hit, maybe from another family. The whole thing was implied to be tied to organized crime.

So, I ended up in the system. Mostly raised in a Catholic Home for Children. St. Joseph's.

[He gives her a nod when she brings up heaven, but it's still such a difficult concept to get his head around. It'd be like someone telling him unicorns existed, or something.

But his face lights up when she mentions movies.] Well, that makes your name a thousand times cooler. I love old movies. And new movies, honestly. Movies in general. Are you mostly into monster movies or everything? Hitchcock? Old war movies? Actually, terrible old scifi movies can be fucking great to watch with someone. [He chuckles.]