Oh jeez. Iman winces at his little crumple, the way his ears move - like a cat or something, that's distantly fascinating - and his sad little question.

"You might be," she says quietly. She slips the perishables into her fridge and leaves the rest on the counter for now, stepping back over to him. She reaches out hesitantly, not sure if he's gonna want to be touched or not.

"I'm sorry," she says, with an unusual amount of sincerity. "Really. This is shit for almost everyone. But that means you're not alone. You're just... lost." Finally she rests a hand gingerly on his shoulder, trying to meet his eyes. "Let's get you somewhere where you can take your mind off it for a bit, okay?"