"For -- for doing that," he says as the door closes behind him, and he's just kind of standing there awkwardly.

"I mean, I, I offer ya a place to sleep, and then, then, knowing bloody well that you have no other option I go ahead and do that, before makin sure that was somethin you were even remotely interested in, just, just cos I wanted to," he rambles, the words tumbling out a little haphazardly, his accent growing thicker with his worry and the rate of his sentences.

"So I'm, I'm sorry, I like ya, so I," he continues, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, not remotely sure where he's even going with this. "I mean, don' worry abao it, you can still stay and I won' try anythin or nowt."

He takes a breath.

"I'm a right prick," he finishes awkwardly, still standing there by the door, holding onto the bag of food a bit too tightly.