Minding the shop while Nevin was gone was becoming as simple as breathing for the not-homunculus at this point. They had, in their opinion, a solid grasp of most of the basic level potions that the alchemist sold in his shop, and any of the more complicated orders were put on a list and left for their mentor to complete on his return. Although his trips were beginning to raise more questions and curiosities.

He seemed... different.

Happier, almost? After their very intense discussion regarding Ezoreth, the truth behind his experiments, and how much of their origin he had figured out, their entire relationship had shifted dramatically. Where once he had been somewhat doting and patient, a new layer of distance had developed between them and their conversations felt... off. It was a weird conundrum of attempting to almost distance himself from them yet at the same time still stay close. It was a strange occurrence, and the time spent apart from the alchemist left an odd physical pain lingering in their chest. It wasn't from any physical ailment they were able to figure out, so perhaps asking the man himself when he returned from whatever adventure he was currently on was the best option.

The door flying open and slamming shook them physically, and watching Nevin stumble in was quite the turn of events. But before they could even give their mentor a proper greeting, a figure had followed in after Nevin. He was tackled to the ground by the assailant, and the purple-eyed magus felt a twinge of panic form. Indigo streaks of electricity began to crackle from their palm and down their forearm, and two fingers quickly pointed towards the... feline female? They tilted their head in confusion, and the sound of Nevin's laughter left them even more perplexed. This woman wasn't an enemy? And since when did Nevin laugh? About anything? The lighting magic still crackled in their hand as they watched the two on the floor, and with a small cough to get their attention, they looked down at the two from behind the counter with a look that could be best described as 'judgmental'.

"...Welcome home, Sir Nevin. And guest. Is there a reason the two of you are being rather physically intimate on the floor of the shop? This is how rumors start, you know."