[He's looking around the kitchen now, but he glances back at Anya when she says that, and something in his eyes softens, the amusement fading from the quirk at the corner of his mouth. He nods, slowly, and turns back to the drawers.]

Yeah. Yeah, I really, really do. [It's more than that, he knows -- he knows he's in love with her. He knows he turned down the girl he almost married once upon a time because of her. But that's maybe, you know, a little heavy for a morning talk with her inmate.]

It's good of you to worry, like, I'm glad someone's looking out for her and all, but... that's not a thing you gotta worry about. Like for real. I plan on sticking.