Grinning at the first response, the cupcakes looked fantastic in the middle of the island. Raylan would be digging into one but those aforementioned manners that were basically engrained into some of the deeper parts of his DNA stopped him.

"Left it in the library, actually. You should talk to the man that's here now. I think you'd find it much the same." Because James was reasonable and largely fair, if you didn't come at him sideways. Some people were less straight forwards.

"Well," he huffs, gesturing at the redone room. The bloodstained carpet had been replaced with a plushier pile of carpet, bed now firmly contained behind a door to Steve's left, giving Raylan an actual living room with a leather couch, currently occupied by one lazy and unbothered orange cat who opened an eye at the new company before huffing a deep breath and going back to sleep. "Fitz talked me into not livin' like shit; Roman's makin' friends and.. spoutin' some surprisin'ly progressive ideas about self-confidence... I mighta picked up a.. someone to share the space with me.."

He bobs his head. "All things considered', things are.." He huffs a laugh, smile pulling a little. "Pretty good, actually. Which. Feels weird as hell, I'll tell ya."