[Sunday doesn't try to disguise the interest in his expression, because like this man before him, there's no reason to hide. A fact that is surreal to consider in the moment. He's met a handful of strangers over the course of these last few days, but few have seen — him as himself. With his face, with his halo. And even fewer have seen him under such private circumstances. Sitting here, eating breakfast across a table from one another still sleep-edged and soft, clothes wrinkled from slumber, white feathers scattered on a pillow case.

Perhaps if he had to wake up next to anyone, then it's better they don't know who he is. He doesn't need to behave any particular way. Wei Wuxian has no expectations of him.]

Yes, I'd like that. I wouldn't want you to go to the trouble of anything extravagant, either. Just... whatever is easiest for you.

[His desires shouldn't become a burden upon someone else.]

I did have one question first. Do you know how these ghosts might react to — ah, mental interfence? There might be a better word to use. ... Do you have any insight into how the minds of these ghosts work?