"I actually really would like a muffin," he admits. "I haven't eaten since yesterday." He shifts a little, uncomfortably, glancing at his phone. "Though, uh, you might have to feed it to me."

Just so this isn't getting any weirder and more maternal. Jesus.

"So, um, how do you know Iman?" he asks, constantly conscious of keeping things casual in spite of his grotesque situation and their mutual circumstantial imprisonment.