Spirit immediately senses tension from Prompto, and frowns. At least the soup is palatable--that brings a hint of pride that he'd managed to make food that was less than awful.

"Anytime you want something cooked up, let me know. I'm no master like your friend, but I can make stuff that's at least edible."

A beat, and he shrugs slightly. "She's all right. Feeling awful, and not eating--hence the soup. Think you missed that conversation."