He takes the bowl from her hands, but even as the smell of the soup hits his nostrils and his stomach urges him to devour it as quickly as possible, instead he just stirs it with his spoon for a moment, uncomfortable.

Fuck, what is he doing here? For so long all he'd wanted was to see Kim again, and then he gets his wish and all they can do is pull back into their shells and say things that hurt each other. He can't even be comfortable sleeping or eating with her in the room, and maybe that's because he hasn't had a lot of human contact where someone wasn't trying to inflict pain on him, but it's also because he can't stop remembering her telling him that he hurt her so badly, that he was so much of a danger to her and others that she didn't want to see him again.

He wants his daughter back so badly, but nothing that she said then has changed, really, and he's not sure that there's much left of him to offer her as a father. As much as she couldn't deal with being hurt by him again after she found out he was alive, he's not sure he can open himself up to hearing her tell him that she can't see him anymore again. He's not sure he can open himself up to feeling much of anything again, much less the hurt that that might bring.

But he's stuck here at the moment, and unless he's going to hurt her again by running away he has to stay a little longer. He forces down a few mouthfuls of soup, stopping for a minute when his stomach realizes this isn't something that's likely to make him sick, forcing himself to take it slowly. He doesn't want to wolf it down ravenously in front of her, even if he's tempted to do so.

Idly stirring the soup for a moment, he doesn't look up at her as he whispers, "I'm sorry."