He follows around like a hovering and easily distracted sort of shadow - looking around, nodding to strangers, never keeping to the left or the right for very long, but inevitably trailing after in Jae's wake. "Romance happens in all the disaster movies, have you noticed?" Sunny queries, and once they're at the lawn chairs, he goes to sit, opening up the box and offering it out. Within are two triangles, sort of a take-away version of the common waffle, crispy where maple syrup hasn't gathered in its little trapping imprinted squares. They come with napkins, for those fussy about getting it all over everything.

He seems willing enough to donate both to the cause of Feeding Jae, taking up his coffee cup to cradle close. It smells predictably toxic, in the way coffee should be when you're in an environment like this.

"Although that's really just the movies." When he sees people's ruined homes, he doesn't feel warm and fuzzy.