"Nothing wrong with them? They were black!" Francis exclaimed. Clearly Arthur needed someone who could cook in his life. He started looking around the kitchen for ingredients to remake everything, shooing Arthur away from the fridge again. "I told you I would make it, so sit still." He tapped Arthur on the butt with his whisk, leading him to the table. "And I don't think you can tell me who is and isn't the love of my life. I know better than anyone just who it is I'm in love with!" Though if he thought about it, he didn't know much of anything about the person he claimed to love.