It wasn't about what she wanted. It was about what she owed him already. (No-one just bought someone a meal. Especially not is that someone was her.) And beside that, it seemed like the right answer was yes.

"Okay, sir," she murmurs.

"You can call me Z, if you want."

Being called 'sir' is pretty unsettling, anyway.

"...shit, I haven't even asked your name yet."

She looks sideways at him, trying to gauge what that offer even means.

She shrugs a little when he asks her name. "I- Blaze? Or. I. Whatever you want?"

“Blaze. Pretty name.”

He’s going to try to ignore the implications of the rest of it.

The girl behind the counter calls “Uh...’Zee?’”, and he gets up for a second to return with their food. 

Her skin darkens a little at the compliment, and she bites at her lip.

She doesn't move when he does, although her eyes to track his movements. She also makes no move towards the food when he returns, watching him out of the corner of her eye, waiting.

He puts hers down in front of her and sits down with his. It’s a rice bowl with orange chicken and vegetables.

“I hope this was a good guess.”

His is beef in a sauce that smells spicy from across the table.

"Thank you, si- Z- sir," she says, cautiously reaching out to pull the bowl closer to her, her other arm wrapping around it to protect it. She's obviously trying not to eat too quickly, but she's also clearly ravenous, and concerned the food will be taken away from her. She eats a little of the chicken, but of what little she actually manages to eat, it's mostly rice and vegetables.

She still barely manages to eat a quarter of what's on the plate before she's full enough to be nauseous. She flinches a little when she realises just how much food she's wasting.

It’s heartbreaking to watch her eat, too. He thinks he’s going to need some superglue for his organs by the time he gets her home.

He finishes most of his food by the time she’s unable to eat any more. When he sees how concerned she looks, he hops out of his seat and comes back with a styrofoam box.

“Here, we can take it home, okay?”

She seems a little bit relieved at that. "I- sorry. Thank you?"

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

He sets the box in front of her so he can finish his meal. Either he was incredibly hungry, or he needs quite a lot of food.

She watches him for a second, and pushes the end of her meal towards him. (It might not be what he would choose, but if he's still hungry, he would probably be better eating it than them taking it back to his.)

He shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I’m Regen-4, so...basically a bottomless pit, when I’ve been using it, you know? I should probably stop after this.”

He finishes off the last of the rice in his bowl.

"...oh," she says quietly. "I- Okay."

She quickly transfers the remains of her meal into the Styrofoam box. (If he's ready to go, she's going to try not to hold him up.)

...oh, nice. Telling the girl who’s clearly already scared as shit that you’re factor 4 and that you’re the kind of factor 4 that needs healing on the regular. Good job, Z.

He smiles awkwardly.

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

Heading out to the car.

She follows, hugging the Styrofoam container to herself.

Backseat again, or does he want her somewhere else?

Now that he's had some time to think about it, he opens the door to the front seat.

She slides in, shrinking in on herself a little. (However she does seem less tense than she had been in the backseat, if only marginally.)

Getting from the restaurant to his apartment doesn't take long. It's in a slightly better part of town, but not by much.

He circles around to help her back out of the car and goes to unlock the door to the building.

She glances around a little unsurely, and sticks closer to him than she has been so far, a little more tense now.

There's a couple flights of stairs up to the door of the apartment.

Once it's open, there's a clear view into the living room. It's a little bare, but there is indeed a couch (and a coffee table that looks like it may have been rescued from the side of a road and cleaned up).

It's still better than anything Blaze has seen in a while. She stays near the door, wishing she didn't have the box in her hands so she could wind her fingers together. She settles for digging the nails of her free hand into her palm.

“So, uh, I have a couple private shows tonight, so don’t come in the bedroom while that’s happening...”

He shuts the door behind them with a click.

”But otherwise it’s pretty much okay to go anywhere.”

She nods, a little confusedly (flinches when the door clicks shut) and then looks around for somewhere to put the box. She looks to him a little helplessly and holds it up slightly. "I- where?"

“Oh, kitchen’s over here.”

Just around the corner is a kitchen separated from the living room by a low wall. You can see between the rooms fairly easily.

“Won’t eat it all if you leave it in the fridge. Scout’s honor.”

She moves over to the kitchen, carefully skirting around him to put the box in the fridge.

"S'fine," she says. "You bought it."