He only has to try for as long as they're here. Then, he reminds himself, he doesn't have to bother with it anymore. And funny that, it actually gives him something to look forward to in going back. No people. No frustrations. No further aggravated hunger.

Her gratitude is hard to look at. Whenever he catches sight of it, his eyes dart away. Like sunshine just a little too bright. She'll figure it out sooner or later-- that he can't, that it doesn't matter, that trying to make him into a watered down better version of himself is pointless. She can't hope forever.

He nods his head almost numbly and says, "Okay."