He had not been expecting to actually share a meal with anyone, but as the realisation that he was *already doing it* began to settle, a hint of joy and excitement hushed over his face.
An iota of normalcy.
Ironic.
But welcome.
Slowly placing his own half empty can aside, Bo did a little step towards the Big Daddy and reached out, holding his hand towards him as if asking back for the can.
"Come here. I can get that open for you."
His tone was welcoming, almost even warm.
Oh, how he missed those little things that separated surviving from living.
A sprinkle of civilisation in this depressing hellhole...
With a nostalgic sigh he took another soupy sip as his gaze once more came to a halt on the other one.
The poor guy had problems opening his can.
As he noticed that him cracking his joints had... *Startled*... The other, Bo gave the Big Daddy a short, apologetic look, then adjusted his glasses.
He took a sip from his canned soup.
It would have tasted better warm.
He could not even remember the last time he had a warm meal...
