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Summary
He clears his throat. “Mydeimos, I realize we've gotten off on the wrong foot. That is, you think I'm a perverted stalker who followed you home, stole your pan-laundry, and also somehow accused you of stealing said pan-laundry. So what do you say we start over?” He rustles the bouquet in his hand, dried leaves falling onto the floor. Great.
Mydei’s eyes trail downwards. “You're cleaning that up.”
“Right. No problem…” Phainon says dejectedly.
Or
Phainon steals his neighbor's panties. Somehow that isn't the most embarrassing thing he's done all week.