Mark Zuckerberg

"Here, I can, um, take that," Eduardo says, reaching for the plate with the leftover burger on it. There aren't many places to keep it, given that he doesn't usually keep much food around the hut, but on top of the desk, he thinks, will do for now. It's better than nothing. That Mark's expressed something resembling approval — or, at least, acceptance — helps, too, though Eduardo still feels the need to impress, to do this right. They've spent most of the evening together now, but they haven't shared proximity like this in a long time, and this being the place he's lived for months now, it seems reflexive of himself somehow. His father would say to be a good host; a long time ago, Eduardo wouldn't have thought it necessary with his best friend, but he doesn't know now quite what they are to each other, whether or not this is going to last. "And if you don't want to sleep in that, I have a t-shirt you can wear."