[It's a gesture of familiarity that threatens to climb under his skin. He doesn't know anyone in this place, not well — but perhaps that is part of the design. More than that, is it so different from the life he lived before? Yet no one spoke to him as this man does without a reason, some ulterior motive, and Sunday wonders when he'll discover it. Because it must be there.

As Wei Wuxian moves from the bed, his gaze remains fixed to a point on the wall politely. He can hear the rustle of clothing, and he doesn't turn until the movement stills, just in case he happens to catch a flash of skin unwanted.]

We may as well. [He sounds... resigned.] It wouldn't be a good idea to turn down food, given that we're all expected to make ends meet on our own otherwise. I don't have a designated suit or rank yet — but nothing guarantees luxury.

[When was the last time he experienced such insecurity toward his basic needs? Not since before he can even remember.]

What should I call you?