Sam lets out a deep contemplative sigh through his nose as he swallows the bite of his sandwich in his mouth. His eyes drift down to you where you sit on the floor beside his feet behind the counter, your eyes cast down to your feet and staring at them as you stay silent. He contemplates whether or not he should ask what’s bothering you.

You had come into his shop just as lunch started and had asked if you could stay until lunch is over. Of course he didn’t turn you down. How could he ever turn down the kid he sees as family. Even if it is during his lunch break. However the way you look is worrying him. You’re spacey, barely moving, and you seem barely aware of your surroundings. So, he decides to ask what’s wrong after his careful contemplation. He hopes he can at least snap you out of your spacey state of he can’t get an answer out of you.

"You’re going to burn a hole through your shoes if you keep staring at them that hard. Everything alright, little imp?" Sam chuckles though the mirth in his voice is replaced by worry as he gives you a concerned smile. He hopes the answer is yes but he has a nagging feeling the answer is no.