Once they're inside and the door is closed, he watches her carefully... but only for a minute. He doesn't want her to feel like she's under a microscope and besides, he didn't invite her here to scrutinize her. He invited her here so he could play music for her.

A little private concert's never done her any harm before. Usually the music is his choice; he's the one playing, after all, but this time he thinks he'll do something different.

"Make yourself comfortable. Bed, chair, standing: whatever works for you." Kneeling beside his sax case, he starts to assemble the instrument. A stray beam of light filters in through the window, glinting off the brass keys, sending a shadow of red onto the velvet as it hits the sole vial of red-eye.

He pretends not to notice that, opting instead to just put the sax together, take out a reed, and moisten it before he sets it into place on the mouthpiece.

"I always say the first song gets to be ladies' choice. Do you have any requests?" If she remembers any song names at all, that might be a positive sign. But while he does believe in the power of music, he has no expectations at all about how this will go.