Rambly was a strange concept for Evan, but he just smiled and shrugged. It was easier to talk to Emily than to Danny and George sometimes; Danny's optimism made it hard to be realistic and George's apparent hatred of him made it miserable to even get through a conversation with her. He was thankful that there was someone in the safehouse who seemed to enjoy his company; it was a nice change. And yeah, it occasionally made him rambly. "I'd listen, but I don't think I'd understand a word of what you were saying," he joked. "As an artist, I think it's in the unofficial rule book that we're not supposed be good at math. I perpetuate that stereotype pretty well."
Once again, Evan laughed a little bit at her comment about people who could sleep probably needing to be medicated or crazy. "That new guy, Lukas Drake? Man, the guy can sleep and I don't know if he has nightmares or not but I seriously wish I could sleep like that," he shook his head. "Maybe next time we raid a drug store I'll look for some melatonin… or something stronger. I bet it's all been raided though," he snorted a laugh. And the Folks in Charge wouldn't share that shit even if they had it.
This was essentially forced slavery. He hated it.
She mentioned not wanting to take from him and he shook his head as he grabbed the bar from his pack regardless. "It's nothing, Emily. I've got an extra since I managed to get back in time for dinner tonight," he told her. "Go for it, really," he insisted. The talk of rations made him laugh bitterly again. "I don't know if I'd trust these people to ration my food. They already treat us like second class citizens, so they'd give us like a green pea a day and call it good."