"Glad to be here, I guess." He jokes back, resuming his position of folded arms against his chest, letting the steam percolate inwardly again. At least he knows on this, he shares exasperations with Tidus. But then Roland finds they've always been on the same wavelength when it comes to putting the passenger's needs first. They were captives regardless of how the story is being told to them, stripped of choice. The least the train could do was think of how to make their tasks easier.

But these were frustrations that needed to be saved for another time, and another place. Roland notices that slouch and that limpness and though they can't read the face of the colored clock just yet, he knows he may have overstayed his welcome already. But he is happy, still. The goal set about complete, the gifts given, and even a little bit more shared between them. His gratitude is overflowing.

The dark-haired man takes the book in his lap and off it disappears in the netherspaces of his Arms Band. Roland then turns to Tidus with a kind expression on his face, leaning even more forward as if trying to stand. "I should get going. Leave you to rest." A pat of Tidus's knee, twice, before he holds the edge of the upper bunk bed for support.

He is bad at approaching the topic again, but he tries to at least, sound more sincere than sheepish; ever too comfortable in keeping it in than letting his emotions get the better of him. Roland clears his throat inaudibly, before he says it, softly. "...Thank you."

For listening. For accepting.