[It's still more than he's expecting--Dante takes the plate with a bit of hesitation, as though he can't quite believe that it's actually for him. (It's stupid, and he chides himself for it, but hey, the last time somebody he wasn't actively seeing made him food was... how long ago?]

You already went through the trouble of making it. That's enough.

[And honestly, as much as he doesn't really want to eat at all, the smell of the eggs cooking have reminded his stomach that he hasn't eaten in nearly a full day, after how little he'd eaten with the rest of his team through the month. So he's digging in and even if it's simple, it's not apples or tinned vegetables or the other scraps of food they'd been able to scrounge up; it's fresh and it's hot and it's seasoned and it's the best thing he's had all month.]

It's... this is really good, Grell. Thank you.

[Please excuse his terrible manners; he's eating standing up and doesn't give a fuck. But after the first bite, he'll nod his head toward the living room.]

Do you want to sit down now?

[Let's not stand here in the kitchen watching him eat, please... Dante doesn't usually feel awkward that often, but this could do it.]