"Weren't that personal," Daniel manages from around the last of his chicken. "Justified, considering the, the circumstances."

The circumstances. Are his ears red again? They very well may be.

He tries to think of something personal and/or possibly important to ask, but his brain is hung up on the question he's been mulling over since he got here. He swallows the last of his dinner and sets down the empty box, running one hand through his slowly drying hair.

"Why'd you help me?" He glances over at Seth, curious and oblique. He genuinely wants to know what would inspire anyone to give the sopping wet homeless guy in the corner of a café a second look.