If it were anyone else, he might tug his food in closer to his chest. Might screw up his face and huff through his nose. If it were certain particular someones, he might even stab them with his plastic fork. But it isn't anyone or someone, it's Viola - so he just tilts the whole thing to give her a better view of wherever the bacon might be hiding.

Desmond grins. "Got no complaints. Company's nice."