For as over the top and aloof as Klaus appears, he's incredibly perceptive. He's always honed in on the subtleties of those around them, whether as a tool of exploitation or curiosity, but he catches the wince as Diego drinks from the mug. It's easy to forget that not everyone wants their coffee as dark and bitter as his own little heart.

He slides from the counter long enough to fish a bottle of vanilla creamer from the fridge, but quickly resumes his perch. He opens the bottle and tips some into his own drink before offering it out to Diego, brows raised.

"Not sure what we're trying to get back to, per se but you're right, it's definitely hard. And so weird being back in that house, though I really do have to give a nod to teenage me. He was an edgy little shit. Decorations were to die for."

He sighs into his mug, chuckling against the rim of it as he drinks deeply. The creamer helps, sweet and smooth on the way down. "Oh, shit, that's right. We didn't do the whole catching up thing. Well I live here, with Allison and her unfairly adorable family. I make sure our sister is fabulously styled and occasionally I teach all the rich, old Hollywood folk how to do yoga. Celebrities or big spenders, usually, and only private lessons. Keeps life very entertaining."

And helps him stack money into Claire's college fund, too, among other things. "I started taking classes early on to help with all the bullshit. Dead people, their dead friends, and their fancy cousin addiction. Allison wanted me to surf. Fuckin surf, can you imagine?" He snorts.

He may or may not pick up one of the completed grilled cheeses and take a bite, too, if only for something to do with his hands. And because maybe, just maybe, he's feeling a little bit better with company here, but he won't admit to that.