Simmons' brows furrow together and she looks down at the sandwich in her hand like it's the thing that's concerning, not the conversation itself. "Prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella," she says helpfully, finally looking up at him, and it's clear that she's worried about this actually working out. Actually being right, that he's still going to say that it's fine, or even express his frustration. She holds it out to him, nodding once. "If you don't want company... you should still eat."

Because he should. Because she knows how both of them are actually spectacularly bad at taking a break to eat unless they're reminded, or at times actually forced to do the same.

"Or, if you have eaten, I suppose you could save it for later?"

She's trying so incredibly hard, and now all she can do is wait for him to actually tell her what he wants to do.