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They're dumplings, [Shinji says, picking up one of the crispy, mostly reheated dumplings with his chopsticks.] You can't tell me you've never had dumplings before... [He didn't expect Nagisa to actually stick around during his lunch break--but there he is, sitting across from him, eyeing the packed bento suspiciously.
Nagisa's probably never had to make his own lunch, huh? Probably had a personal chef even as a little baby, being offered organic chicken purée and pure camel's milk and who knows what else. That's the sort of filthy-fucking-rich vibe he gives off. Everything about him, from his hair cut to his mannerisms, is completely at odds with the drafty coffee shop that Shinji earns a pittance in. Just one minute of Nagisa's time must be worth several of Shinji's paychecks.
But Shinji holds out the dumpling anyway.]
Here. Just try it. [He's half-hoping Nagisa will think it's awful, so he can tell Nagisa to fuck off and leave him alone. Not so patient, he adds,] I made these ones myself, and they've got pork and garlic in them, if you're wondering.
Nagisa's probably never had to make his own lunch, huh? Probably had a personal chef even as a little baby, being offered organic chicken purée and pure camel's milk and who knows what else. That's the sort of filthy-fucking-rich vibe he gives off. Everything about him, from his hair cut to his mannerisms, is completely at odds with the drafty coffee shop that Shinji earns a pittance in. Just one minute of Nagisa's time must be worth several of Shinji's paychecks.
But Shinji holds out the dumpling anyway.]
Here. Just try it. [He's half-hoping Nagisa will think it's awful, so he can tell Nagisa to fuck off and leave him alone. Not so patient, he adds,] I made these ones myself, and they've got pork and garlic in them, if you're wondering.