Dustin breathes a heavy sigh, but at least he's settled on a state of 'resigned acceptance' rather than the frustration and anger from earlier. Lowering his expectations helps.

"Fine." Reluctantly, Dustin shuffles back towards the table and takes a seat in front of one of the plates. He's content to sulk at first; this isn't even real food, after all, so what's the point in pretending to eat it? But he can still smell it, somehow. And it smells so fucking good.

Slowly, he picks up a fork. "Are you even aware of what I saw?" Dustin asks, sawing off a piece of sausage coated in mashed potatoes and tentatively holding it in front of his face, just for a moment, before shrugging and popping it in his mouth. "I guess not, probably."