God fucking damn it-

[He says, sudden and bitter, and then with a quick, sorry laugh.]

I just. What on earth am I going to complain about?

[Because it's perfect, and he's pissy and angry and miserable, and if the food and been shit then he could have at least coped. He scrubs a quick hand over his eyes and looks at her again, tries to smooth quickly;]

I'm so sorry, I'm really- adjusting, still, more than I thought.