[ Midnight hums in the way men sometimes do when they're pleased to do a menial task that requires nothing but patience and a comparatively small amount of physical exertion that they're nonetheless happy to give. ]

Thank you. I work out.

[ In response to the comment about his strength, of course. This laugh is the usual self-centered delight at his own jokes, free of the raw, rough cut edges from before. ]

It's more than all right, both the exchange and your observations, although you'll have to forgive me when I say I don't actually have a home for the chandelier just yet. I'm scouting locations.

[ There's a Plan. Midnight's good at plans, when he puts his mind to them.

With regard to the observation, though... Well, Midnight has less to say about that to someone he's only just met, especially when he's already acknowledged it. What's worth saying about strength, anyway, when he's already applying it, actively, currently, in the exact way he wants to: helping someone with something they do best? ]

You deserve to be less tired, darling. I think most people do.

[ Except himself, of course, but Midnight's always thought himself rather exceptional. ]