[Simon exhales, trying to force the stress out of his body and the tension out of his shoulders. It... doesn't work. He just looks miserable. Hershel's going to get into trouble and it's all his dumb, stupid fault. This is a disaster.

Still, he eats, bending down to pick up the food and squirreling it away in his mouth while Hershel stands guard. He alternates between looking incredibly grateful, incredibly satisfied and incredibly god damn upset because this food is horrible and dirty from the floor and also they're both seriously going to die, but. For the most part, he lets himself enjoy this moment, seeing as it's probably the last meal he'll ever eat.]

I'm sorry. [He sighs when he's done, his posture all miserable and pathetic. He's the dumbest loser in this place and it's clear on his face that he thinks Hershel has to hate him now.] You broke the rules because of me. You didn't have to do that.

[He scratches the back of his neck, calmer now that he has food in his stomach, and he stows the napkin somewhere in his pocket to dispose of later. Simon wants to do something for Hershel, but he's pretty sure nothing can be done to make up for this.]

You're a really good guy, Hershel. [He's maybe sniffling a little.] I-I owe you one, okay?