Darius could see an uncertainty in Jane's eyes.  Had he scared her with the mention of PTSD and the earlier scream?  There had been a time when a part of him would have said "Good".  A time when he thought he was too broken to be around other people.  He'd isolated himself from his neighbors the last two places he lived.  Which gave him an anti-social image that didn't serve him well when he had to come to the rescue of female neighbors with abusive boyfriends.  The cop in him couldn't just stand by, but given the image he had created, he got the boot from the apartment complexes along with the boyfriends.  This time, he was going to try and be more sociable, while still trying to keep his past a secret.<br/><br/>"The couch and chair are new, so you'll be the first guest to break them in.  Unless you want to sit at the kitchen counter instead.  I don't think I'm going to do anything with the kitchen, now that I've changed the sink fixtures.  But that beige in the living room was enough to put me to sleep.  And that pink in the bathroom gives me a headache.  The beige in the bedroom I can live with."  Now, he was maybe talking too much, compared to the sullen individual he'd been in his last two apartments.  He felt awkward, trying to make conversation.<br/><br/>Darius poured a cup for Jane and for himself.  Rather than trying to gauge how much cream and sugar she wanted, he put both on a tray with the coffee and waited to see where she would sit.