"It's a deal," he agreed to the less formal terms of address. "Do you usually just help yourself to whatever you want?" he asked of her, referring to the coffee of course, but there was a cheeky little glint in his eye, that boyish wit and charm.
He shook his head lightly, feeling himself get even paler as an anxiety set in. Still? Had he forgotten something about himself? About his life?
"No... no, I take some milk, please-" he told her, with a slight waver. There was something she wasn't sharing yet, something big.
He suddenly didn't feel very hungry at all. Maybe it wasn't just his leg. Maybe- maybe-
"Abi, please tell me truthfully," he requested suddenly, a hand reaching out to gently touch her wrist in a request that she didn't rush off to get the food immediately. "Is it amnesia? Brain damage? Is there something..." he trailed off, gesturing to his own skull with his spare hand and mouthing "wrong?" like it was a secret.