...Most people do, even if you make that sort of comparison.
( It's a mumble, sounding even funnier with his nose pinched shut again. It's disappointing, that this is over like this. That he didn't find some full, secret connection, or the key to getting them out of here. That he passed out for half a second and now this little outing is going to end, right when he was starting to feel a little useful.
He leans his weight forward a little, pushing through the gentle hold of Dabi's hand at his nose to rest head against chest, like the softest of headbutts. And since he doesn't mind the blood, since he doesn't have any attachment to these clothes, he reaches a bloody palm up to scrunch at the front of his hoodie, a pathetic cling. Wait, don't try to leave so quickly. )
I don't even have a sink to wash my face at in my terrible little excuse for a bedroom, you know.
( Those words combined with his sulky little hunch show, he hopes, that he wants to go back to Dabi's room, not his own. That he wants to borrow his space for just a little bit more, while he's so freshly avoiding the other he'd been using. ...That's when something hits him, though, and he shifts, lifting his head enough to peer at Dabi's in the normally reversed orientation of being "taller"— and moves his free hand to smear a little streak of blood across Dabi's cheek. )
no subject
( It's a mumble, sounding even funnier with his nose pinched shut again. It's disappointing, that this is over like this. That he didn't find some full, secret connection, or the key to getting them out of here. That he passed out for half a second and now this little outing is going to end, right when he was starting to feel a little useful.
He leans his weight forward a little, pushing through the gentle hold of Dabi's hand at his nose to rest head against chest, like the softest of headbutts. And since he doesn't mind the blood, since he doesn't have any attachment to these clothes, he reaches a bloody palm up to scrunch at the front of his hoodie, a pathetic cling. Wait, don't try to leave so quickly. )
I don't even have a sink to wash my face at in my terrible little excuse for a bedroom, you know.
( Those words combined with his sulky little hunch show, he hopes, that he wants to go back to Dabi's room, not his own. That he wants to borrow his space for just a little bit more, while he's so freshly avoiding the other he'd been using. ...That's when something hits him, though, and he shifts, lifting his head enough to peer at Dabi's in the normally reversed orientation of being "taller"— and moves his free hand to smear a little streak of blood across Dabi's cheek. )
Maybe we should clean up together. ( devious. )