[He growls taking a deep breath and holding it to not start hissing and spitting like a cat, but there's definitely a bristle to his posture that indicates Katsuki is agitated. He clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth together, and lets that held breath go in a soft hiss. She's taking her shoes off, thank fucking god, because that's one less thing to get mad about. Katsuki's not going to mop the damn floors of melted snow, sand, and mud just to host one person for a few minutes. And yes, custom. Katsuki's a stickler for the rules, after all.

He huffs loudly, washing his hands with that same aggression and toweling them off on a hand towel he tosses aside. It is really so surprising he can cook? Bake?? It's practical. Katsuki feels a pang in his chest, remembering how Uraraka was so shocked he could fucking...chop vegetables with the precision, accuracy, and speed of a top-class chef. He may have blown up a wood stove, but he got...over-excited. Sue him. Fuck you.]

If I don't want to fucking starve, I need to cook, right? [Because what money does he have to buy anything? He came with nothing, he can't really work because of his injuries. He was given a grace by the healers tending him of enough food and drink to get by until he can work properly to fill his pantry.] If you don't want it, don't take it. But you're missing out...

Goes great with berry preserves or soft cheese. Tea, too. [Katsuki, you food snob.]