[He starts apologizing and backing out- like he's the one that spilled the milk, or almost rewound. Like it's his fault. That's so...

That's so Sans.

She takes a deep breath and exhales it shakily as she slowly loosens her grip on the table.

A bad reminder of what..? she wants to ask him, wondering how much he knows. But she lets the moment pass.]

No, it's... okay. I should... be more chill. It's not your fault.

[She turns to him, blinking to clear her eyes, and reaches out to hand him a sandwich awkwardly.] It's not... you. And anyway, I have to thank you for the, the pick up.

[And she also doesn't want to end up stuck alone in the kitchen, where obviously strangers will be coming and going.]