He puts down his pen and eats. He spills ketchup, mustard, and grease, from the cheeseburger, onto the drawing. On the placemat, the condiments and the grease cause the drawing to look as though it is wounded. Bleeding. If he notices, he does nothing to save the drawing. He is far too busy eating.
Jesus, Alex. Eat much?
She means it as a joke. He understands the humor, of course. But he does not laugh.
Ever since the darkness, he says, I have been hungry.
He looks over at her plate. She has hardly touched it.
Aren't you hungry? he asks.
Would you like some, she asks.
No thank you, he says. I just want to know if you are hungry, as well.
Not terribly, no... but don't let that stop you, Sweetie, she says.
Don't call me that, he says.
Oh, Alex... she says.