[ Flynn snorts humorlessly, grinning down at the cutting board. ]

Yes, I'd like to see it as well. It does sort of feel like we signed a contract we weren't allowed to read first. Shady.

[ With everything chopped, Flynn lets his knife fall and goes to retrieve his shirt. The window is open, and outside, night has fallen, sending a cool breeze brushing through the kitchen and raising goosebumps on his bare skin. His shirt is still a little sweat-damp, and he shivers when he slips it on, but it's better than being bare-chested for no reason. ]

It is all kind of hard to just accept, isn't it? Or maybe I shouldn't be asking you that.