[Phillip doesn't really consider himself an overly protective or sentimental person, and yet there's this weird urge to take this guy home and just wrap him in a blanket and let him play with a dog and convince him that everything will be ok. Maybe Carden's rubbing off on him. It seems like a thing Carden might want to do.

So instead he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. He doesn't know what would be most helpful here, or how much his help would be wanted, so--] Let's... do you like coffee? Or tea, or something? I'll buy you some and you can ask whatever you want about this place. I know it's... a lot.

[And even though he's blatantly sidestepping some issues, he imagines whatever this guy's world is like is making it all the more 'a lot'.]