The smile gets filed away in his head for later, one of these rare little human moments that doesn't bring pain with it. Because Molly Hooper eating curry next to him, giving him a look that says she's ready to challenge him if he moves in the wrong direction, is somehow on par with an expertly forged Picasso or a set of 32 fouettes done by a talented dancer.

Love is definitely making him biased and he doesn't give a damn right now.

He winks at her, broadly--that's something he knows a handful of people reliably laugh at, and if anything fits this moment in her kitchen it's laughter--and promptly takes an enormous bite of his own Madras curry. Which is, also to his surprise, delicious.