Oh, come on, they literally knew and have been stuck with each other for decades, so f*CK formalities. Every now and then, it was almost as if he wore his disheveled appearance like a badge of honor, and as mentioned, his hands were rough, calloused from countless hours of labor, very ill-suited for the delicate work of mending. Reflexively, he raised hands in false surrender for her to examine how work-gone-wrong in her own silent way. Vain attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere that enveloping them, despite her stern warning, a sparkle in his eye suggested he would not back down easily.
Head tilted to the side, emphasizing his question intently while very much keeping the characteristic grin at bay, " -—s that a yes?? "
Or rather - confirming that yes was a 'yes' linked to the quickest solution, where she would not only restore the fabric to its former glory but also ensure that her domain remained untouched by the chaos that seemed to cling to him like a shadow. How else to lure the fallen Phoenix back to his den?