( Write it later? There's an immediate rush of worry that comes with that. What if he forgets? What if he doesn't get the chance? What if any number of mistakes leads to this being some useless mess? )
But—
( The pinch to his nose being replaced by Dabi's puts a stop to his thoughts, for the moment. With the pause of that rush, he becomes aware of just how dizzy he feels, how losing even this much blood can be an annoyance for someone like him. And so he listens to the instructions, as calm as they are, even if the first breath through his mouth is more of a frustrated exhale. He closes his eyes in an attempt to keep things from spinning.
There's blood everywhere, but it's only Esikko's that smells oddly floral, and so strongly so. Not even the jars of blood mixed with flower petals manage to smell so much like a flower field, between the sickly smell of injury it normally carries. Only his that's unusually cold, that seems to drip like it has a mind of its own, curving over arches of knuckles and palm with a subtle slowness. But that's all that seems to be different, and as Esikko focuses on breathing, it at least becomes clear that he's not going to pass out again.
Though this nosebleed is going on for a bit longer than he'd like, the pinched nose is helping. )
I've made a mess out of you. ( Spoken with a huff that's close to a laugh, though a little too irritated with himself to carry properly, Esikko slides the hand on Dabi's thigh over a little, smearing some of the droplets of blood. But... )
You must not mind so much, if you're grabbing my face after that.
no subject
But—
( The pinch to his nose being replaced by Dabi's puts a stop to his thoughts, for the moment. With the pause of that rush, he becomes aware of just how dizzy he feels, how losing even this much blood can be an annoyance for someone like him. And so he listens to the instructions, as calm as they are, even if the first breath through his mouth is more of a frustrated exhale. He closes his eyes in an attempt to keep things from spinning.
There's blood everywhere, but it's only Esikko's that smells oddly floral, and so strongly so. Not even the jars of blood mixed with flower petals manage to smell so much like a flower field, between the sickly smell of injury it normally carries. Only his that's unusually cold, that seems to drip like it has a mind of its own, curving over arches of knuckles and palm with a subtle slowness. But that's all that seems to be different, and as Esikko focuses on breathing, it at least becomes clear that he's not going to pass out again.
Though this nosebleed is going on for a bit longer than he'd like, the pinched nose is helping. )
I've made a mess out of you. ( Spoken with a huff that's close to a laugh, though a little too irritated with himself to carry properly, Esikko slides the hand on Dabi's thigh over a little, smearing some of the droplets of blood. But... )
You must not mind so much, if you're grabbing my face after that.