[ A hoarse chuckle sounds in his throat at her mention of hot water, genuine. He may not know her, but he can take an educated guess when someone's experienced a life bereft of kindnesses. As if to punctuate what he's going to say next, he picks up the box of chocolates from his lap and leans to offer her one, a single row of them already picked clean by his sweet tooth. His gaze sweeps the suite, the closet, the food. Assessing and thoughtful, but also somewhat shrewd and a little...

— awkward, almost, with how he wants to make eye contact but instinctively shies from it without his shades. ]

They don't skimp on the amenities, that's for sure. [ A beat. ] Which is the least our gracious hosts could do for us, given the strange circumstances. Like you said... once I think I've got one thing figured out, it's like it's all slipping through my fingers again. Chrome, sand, a mirage...

[ Lighter isn't a man who wants for luxury or excess, the marks of hardship still adorning him even when clothed. But he is someone who commands honor, and all of this surreptitious glamor under a power that whispers just trust me is grating on what few principles he has left.

He sighs to dissipate some of the tension he feels building in his chest again, quelling the thought. A half-smile tips the corner of his mouth. ]

All things considered, though. I feel alright. You've been a pretty easy suitemate for how we woke up.