[ He mutters faintly as she ushers him along, his steps halting. Miserable shame at needing so much help--at needing, in general--curls in his belly, but there's nothing for it. He doesn't even have the energy to lash out, otherwise he would, he'd shove her away and tell her to get out, mind her own business, what does she even care? Who is he to her? Nothing; nobody. The agitation rises in the back of his throat like bile, bitter and hot, but he can't spit it out. He's exhausted. He all but crumples onto the couch.
His apartment is small, but neat--not necessarily out of any meticulous upkeep on his part, but simply because there isn't much in it. The couch has a glass table in front of it with a few empty hokk bottles as decor. There's a television screen on the far wall, coated in dust. A small kitchen with a mostly empty fridge; a door to the bathroom; a door to the bedroom.
Fenris shuts his eyes once he's down. He breathes slow. ]
no subject
[ He mutters faintly as she ushers him along, his steps halting. Miserable shame at needing so much help--at needing, in general--curls in his belly, but there's nothing for it. He doesn't even have the energy to lash out, otherwise he would, he'd shove her away and tell her to get out, mind her own business, what does she even care? Who is he to her? Nothing; nobody. The agitation rises in the back of his throat like bile, bitter and hot, but he can't spit it out. He's exhausted. He all but crumples onto the couch.
His apartment is small, but neat--not necessarily out of any meticulous upkeep on his part, but simply because there isn't much in it. The couch has a glass table in front of it with a few empty hokk bottles as decor. There's a television screen on the far wall, coated in dust. A small kitchen with a mostly empty fridge; a door to the bathroom; a door to the bedroom.
Fenris shuts his eyes once he's down. He breathes slow. ]
... thank you.