She's not even wrong. It's not entirely conscious, his preference for over-sized clothes, but there's definitely an element of "hiding" to it. It's safer when they can't see how big you really are, where your clothes end and you begin.

He mirrors her little smile. "Yeah, of course. You don't even need to bribe me with cookies." Though he will eat them. He had his cereal for breakfast, dutifully, but he hasn't eaten since. He opens the door wider so she can come in.

One of the cushions is on the coffee table between the sand and the book, too, where at one point he'd propped up his once again bare feet.