[ He grabs a napkin to wipe at his fingers before lifting his drink to take a sip. He's only stalling a little bit. ]

It felt like a good welcome home.

[He's quiet again for a moment, trying to build up the courage to talk about this. He can take on all of Gotham, but when it comes to talking about feeling or emotions- he's a mess.]

...Alfred used to do the same for me. When I had difficult days... and nights. It seemed ridiculous- how could food be comforting, but- once he was no longer here I understood.