[ Enjolras, half-expecting to be rejected, jumps at the chance to actually do something positive, moving toward the fridge. ]

Sure, what do you have in the fridge, I can try to pull someth--

[ There's a slightly stale scent coming from the fridge when Enjolras opens it, which is ironic given then is only an almost empty minus a bottle of wine on the door and a now-expired carton of milk and old takeout box occupying its shelves. ]

...Or not. I can order takeaway, if you have any preferences? That way I can help you clean while we wait.