His voice is a low rumble when he... seems to be praising me, and I wonder why he even cares. I start to piece the panel back together, putting the wires in place and screwing the input pad back on and generally leaving the machine exactly as I initially found it. Then, once that's done, I reach up for the two coins I had set aside, and put them back into the machine.

"There." I lift my right hand, gripping the length of my fringe, stroking and tugging slightly- straightening it and centering the presentation of the streak in my hair. It's a habit I've had since it was long enough to do so, and I'm very good at it. Then I slightly tighten the hold of the tie in the back of my hair, brush both hands down my shirt (a simple button-down in a fine light green plaid) and turn to face my erstwhile audience of one properly.

"Thank you." I accept his praise, staring intently into his eyes for just a moment before looking away.

"You had mentioned food. As in, you know of somewhere that is open and available at this time of night. If the offer still stands, I would gladly accompany you." I wince a little bit as the words come out of my mouth, then glance up at him again. "I'm sorry. I sound like a-" I was going to say something incriminating, like a manky old Priest that's used to talking to his brushes, but that would be really dumb so I correct myself with hardly a pause. "A computer or something. I don't know why I talk like that."