Your cheek is propped on your hand while you prod at your meal. After being in the car for what felt like ages, you thought you'd be starving, but there was just one more town to pass before reaching Reno—that killed your appetite.

Stanley was busy flirting with some poor.. poor lady at the diner’s counter. Your gaze drifted back to Lion, the vintage neon lights casting a flickering glow on his face. He was already watching you, chewing slowly. His gaze flicked from your untouched plate back to your face.

"...You should eat," he mumbled. You remained silent; a slight puff escaped your nostrils. "You care about my well-being now?" you asked as your head tilted.

The hum of the neon buzzed louder than the silence between you. He looked back down at his food, jaw tightening slightly. There was something in his eyes. Not regret exactly, but the weight of knowing he deserved the bite in your words.

A clink of his fork broke the quiet, "We've been on the road for a while," he sighed, "I know it's really rich coming from me— but at least just eat your fries.." He still couldn't bring himself to look at you.

A deep breath escaped your lips as you begrudgingly grabbed a fry and took a bite. ".. When we get to Reno," you began, "What happens to me?" You were aware of the truth, regardless of how often you wished it would be different.

He paused his meal the moment you posed the question. Finally, he looked up. “What do you want to happen?” You originally thought the question was sarcastic, but when you met his eyes, you realized he was serious. He was giving you the option.