The reminder of being what he is, what he'll always be, a human's fully customised property meant to be used whether or not he consents — because consent simply doesn't exist for androids with human owners — is hard to dismiss and move on from in that moment. What Joi goes on to say about how they're supposed to be only compounds matters in his mind, causing him to withdraw a bit more into himself, the only defense mechanism that he really knows to do when he's upset. Internalise everything and try to suppress it.

He looks toward the many-hued fall trees, frowning to himself in thought as he warms his hands around the still-hot cup. He isn't sure what to say to that — is that how she prefers him to behave? Is it an impersonal observation about love and attraction, or is it how she feels? It's unclear. The whole line of conversation is making him feel strangely isolated, an all too familiar feeling.

"With all of that," he confirms about bathing. At least that's easy to answer. "Anything you could want, you'll likely be able to have here."

Once he's finally finished with the hot chocolate, he collects the next drink to try. He isn't so distracted by unpleasant thoughts that he can't appreciate the interesting blend of spices, so many different flavours that he doesn't know the names for. And drinking it at least provides an excuse for his quietness.