It's truly an honor to try the food you've so kindly brought."

Brian responded with cool detachment, "Don't mention it. After all, you did save my wife's life."

Lyndon remarked lightly, “It appears I should be thanking Rosa for this."

Brian retorted plainly, “Just so you're aware.”

Their banter continued as Rosalynn set about unpacking the food.

"Lyndon, eat up while it's warm," she encouraged.

Brian observed her, on the verge of feeding Lyndon, and intervened, seizing the bowl of porridge from her hands.

"I'll take over."

Lyndon cast a glance at him.

"Oh? Feeding me, are you?"

Brian shot back, "Getting your hopes up?"

Lyndon quipped, “Just a reminder. Don't get too carried away. I assure you, I'm quite straight."

Brian could only muster a wordless stare.

"Will you eat it yourself, or shall I summon the caregiver for assistance?" Brian inquired, his face a mask of indifference.

Upon noticing Lyndon's glance in Rosalynn's direction, a frosty gleam flashed in Brian's eyes. Did he expect Rosalynn to attend to him?

The thought crossed Brian's mind.

With a smile, Lyndon accepted the bowl.

“My hands are fine."

Brian's frosty demeanor thawed marginally as he observed Lyndon eating unaided.

Yet, his gaze lingered on Lyndon, vigilant against any sign he might seek Rosalynn's aid.