[Though the smoke makes her eyes water and her throat feel like it's being rubbed raw, nothing on Diana's face betrays the physical discomfort of standing over a burning pan of food. She seems perfectly content to continue poking at it with a spatula, as if moving it around the pan will somehow make it edible again. Only when she hears someone enter the room does she turn away from it, a sharp movement of her head made even more uncanny by the frozen look of her smile. Aside from a too-cheery oh! as the flame beneath the pan disappears, she doesn't show any other shock about the disaster that has surely been avoided in the kitchen.
Diana doesn't blink as she stares at the young man in front of her, lips still pulled back in that smile.]
I don't think we've met. But you seem to know my husband, so welcome to our home!
[Despite the peppy tone to her voice, it still comes out somehow hollow. Not quite right. She doesn't seem bothered by the smoking mess on the stove in front of her.]
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Diana doesn't blink as she stares at the young man in front of her, lips still pulled back in that smile.]
I don't think we've met. But you seem to know my husband, so welcome to our home!
[Despite the peppy tone to her voice, it still comes out somehow hollow. Not quite right. She doesn't seem bothered by the smoking mess on the stove in front of her.]