[She's talking more normally and shivering less, so that seems like a good sign. But then she says she doesn't want him to go, and...oh. He sighs, annoyed with himself.]

You're right. Sorry. I...wasn't thinking.

[He's clearly been here too long already, if his mind is so conditioned to all this 'peaceful' nonsense that he's focusing more on avoiding anything suggestive than sticking with a friend who just got here. Foolish.

He sits down opposite her, a few feet away, frowning and looking at the floor.]

The machine claims that this place is some kind of...training ground for ensuring that we know how to get along peacefully with each other before its creators start a new society or something. I don't know the details. But it...it seems to think that 'getting along' requires, um.

[He gestures vaguely in a way that expresses nothing useful. Come on, this is so stupid! He lives with Sylvain, for crying out loud, it's not like he hasn't had frank conversations about sex before! Just...not with her. Spit it out, Fraldarius.]

Physical...intimacy. I don't eat cake, so it didn't happen to me, but others...

[Oh, yeah, his face is heating up now.]

It appears that different kinds of food and drink cause different symptoms.