[ ugh, god, he doesn't want to do this. there's a reason he ignores it all, isn't there? it's none of his business. it's not his place to look after strangers. he's not.. what He was.

his glance drops to his coffee again, lips thinning uncertainly. ] Uh. Yeah, they seem nice. [ he rubs a hand over his brow, then digs a knuckle into his temple. ] I-- Sorry, it's been a weird coupla' days. [ he could say something right now. he could. but it's just an echo, isn't it? ]

Short answer: yes. I-- I see stuff in and attached to people, too. And it's none of my business and I-- I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything, but you've got this.. fog, like, or mist sometimes. [ a shaky breath. ] And it's not strong or anything, it's more like a reminder? But you're sitting at my kitchen table and I'd feel like an asshole if I didn't.. say something. In case you didn't know. [ helplessly: ] I don't know what it is, I never know what it is, all I can do is see it, and I can't help that part.