"I guess it's just weird," he murmurs. All at once his appetite is fading, but--no. No. He's not going to be like this now, and when he takes another forkful of rice the stabbing motion of it is almost angry.

"Hiding shit is like a habit," he says shortly. He's not sure how else to say it. It's a habit, a bad one, and it takes a lot of breaking.