[Slowly reaching out to take the bread, his hand wobbles slowly back and forth. Every thought more complicated than instinct is acid just now, but one of those instincts is telling him he can't afford to upset her. She knows too much, and who else might she tell, and where would he go? She's nothing like me. I'm unique. I'm special. I am.
Chin resting on his knees, his gaze drifts between the bread in his hand and her. It's still slow and staring, a little hesitant to respond.]
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Chin resting on his knees, his gaze drifts between the bread in his hand and her. It's still slow and staring, a little hesitant to respond.]
How long have you been here, Matt?
[He hates her.]