[Benjamin has taken a seat a table, but there's no indication that he has, or plans to eat or drink anything. His shoulders are hunched, crossed arms propped on the cold plastic tabletop, staring down at the table with a distant expression.

When Orpheus approaches, he tries to summon something like a veneer of normalcy, although it's an exhausted shadow of his former self. He uncrosses his arms and sits up to turn to face him.]

...Just some company, I think, lad.

[He rubs one hand over his whiskers, from mustache to chin, then cradles that wrist in the other hand, almost unconsciously, as if he expects something to be there that isn't.]

These past couple of days, when I'm alone I fall into my own head, and that's not... going to help anybody.