[ While it's clear to Derek that Tate probably isn't going to eat tonight, he also thinks it's important that he tries. Three days without food is-- intense, and while he knows that Tate might not need food to survive, he does also cling to the hope that there's something about Duplicity that keeps the poor kid alive. Genuinely, authentically alive. The sooner Tate treats his body like a living thing worth protecting, the sooner, hopefully, he'll feel like less of a phantom. ]

That's okay. Just... have something. For me. Even if it's small.

[ Derek shrugs one shoulder, reaching over the counter to grab a couple of forks from the drawer behind it. He leaves one on the counter beside him for Tate to pick up, if he wants it, but then just stabs some chicken for himself, taking a bite. There's an insistent meow by his ankles, and after taking a few more mouthfuls, Derek starts breaking up some of the chicken for his cats, keeping his eyes off of Tate. He doesn't want to pressure him. ]

I can fix you something easier, if this is too much. Soup, or... toast, or something. Doesn't have to be now, either, just - you should have something before you go to sleep.