Welcome to Gaia! ::

He managed to salvage a piece of tape off of another envelope and roughly sealed the letter shut. He frowned at it, thinking quietly. "I'm not sure. Whenever you think is best?" His grip on the paper tightened slightly. "I'm sorry. All I do is make unreasonable requests. One after another." As the evening progressed, he was feeling less and less regret over his imminent disappearance. The realization that everything he had strived to do had been for naught had been a weighty one, and in addition to that he continued to pester Claire for things she had never asked to be a part of. He closed his eyes briefly in what was essentially an extended blink. Things were just going increasingly poorly...

He stared at the letter for a while longer before passing it to Claire. "...Thank you." For agreeing to deliver the note, for wanting to help, for ever bothering with him in the first place. As he considered all these things, he began to realize what Claire had meant when she tried to explain the word 'lonely.' 'Lonely' was being isolated deep in the subconscious, unable to speak or even think, let alone convey those words or thoughts to others. 'Lonely' was a crippling existence.

"Hm?" Oh, dinner. "Ah, sure..." He had passed up dinner in favor of maintaining his guns, and truthfully he was feeling a bit hungry, but was it really all right for him to waste time...? When he was unable to come up with any other matter that required his immediate attention, he chose to cede to Claire's suggestion and stood to move towards the door, holding it open to wait for his company to pass. "Did you have anything specific in mind?"

"All right," he said with a nod, agreeing on both points. He followed, somewhat dazedly, towards wherever Claire was leading. Spaghetti was always good. He had something of a preference towards Italian-esque cuisine, as infrequently as he had the opportunity to consume meals himself.

He entered the room, quietly pushing the door into place behind him and watching Claire as she pulled the small box out of her dresser. He glanced over her shoulder momentarily, vaguely curious about the contents, and turned his gaze elsewhere when he noticed the items were all of a personal nature. He trusted that Claire would refrain from reading his letter, and so he kept his own eyes away from her business. He refocused when she returned the box to its place, exiting from the book-covered room into the hall. "Dinner it is," he said with a nod, turning in the general direction of the kitchen and starting down the hall. He paused momentarily. "And... Thank you, again..."

He locked his gaze on an indistinct place on the floor ahead. "For helping me with all of this. You say it's because you want to, but..." But who would want to go through all this trouble for a person who wasn't even truly a person? For someone who would very nearly literally disappear without a trace?

All he could think to do in response to her words was stare as though she had spoken them in a foreign language. Lucas as her friend registered without a hitch. Luke as her friend, however... The words seemed almost an oxymoron when put together. He raised his hand to his mouth thoughtfully, almost disbelievingly. "...Thank you," he murmured, making how many times now? He cleared his throat. "Anyway. Dinner." He resumed his progress down the hall.

He nodded once to indicate his acknowledgment and proceeded to sift through the cabinets for the named items. He found a number of boxes of spaghetti, all different kinds and in various states of consumed. He pulled down a box of penne and a box of gemelli to complement the nearly-gone plain spaghetti pasta, setting them aside for Claire to use when she needed them. The sauce proved a less harrowing task; it seemed someone had recently bought in bulk, leaving a few unopened jars shoved in a corner. He retrieved one and set it with the pasta.

"Anything else?"