"Oh." That's right, he did know this.

Furrowing his brow, Benedict thinks on the information, at least glad he's sober for it this time. He opens his mouth and closes it several times, then shakes his head.

"I guess I've got no room to talk," he mutters, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and looking down at his bowl.
"I don't know how I'd have reacted. But." He glances up furtively. "I'm glad you're still here."