Head tilts like a confused dog when she tells him to hold on, suddenly dips out of the room. He rubs at his eyes as if he can somehow clear the clouds, though it doesn’t do much of anything. He squints at her again when she returns, the gentle brush of the linen against his skin signalling him to take it. A shy nod and a mumbles thanks is given as the shaking man drags the towel over his body, his hair.
They hum softly as they wrap it over their head, bury their face in the soft fabric. They sniffle, opening an eye when she mentions warming up. They hear her move a chair and move towards the light dancing in the splotches of their vision. At first, they don’t notice her moving closer, so when she places a hand against their arm they jump slightly with a gasp. “Sorry,” he mumbles for the hundredth time. He just doesn’t want to be a burden.
“Oh, um…Thank you.” He lowers himself carefully into the chair, gripping the arms to steady himself since he can be a bit clumsy. Large, puppy eyes stare up at the girl when she mentions food, their stomach grumbling at the mere idea of it, mouth watering. He swats his curls back from his face, wipes more droplets off the tip of his nose, his cheeks. A sniffle.
“I…Well, I- I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” he adds quickly. “I mean, I am hungry, sure, but..it- it’s all right. I’m- I’m- I’m sort ‘f always hungry,” he chuckles as if it's not as disturbing as it sounds. He clears his throat, looks down at the bright movements of the fire.
“Oh, I have glasses, just, um…” A frown. He scratches at the back of his head. “I- I- I’m not quite sure where I left them, so…” A few blinks, the realization hitting him that they likely got left wherever it was she’d picked him up at, along with his clothes and anything else he owned and still had. Hopefully, ideally, his things wouldn’t get dragged away with the trash. That had happened to him before and he was not looking forward to searching a junkyard again…
“Ling,” they repeat softly, trying their best to commit it to memory. They ought to mention, though, that it likely won’t stick. However, they opt to introduce themselves first. “I- I’m Xander.” A friendly, albeit sheepish, smile brightens his expression. He clings to the towel, sniffles again.
“I- I- I’m sorry again about the…” He gestures generally in towards the floor. “Dog…” He licks his lips. “I can’t really control it, I—“ Shoulders shrug and he flicks at the tip of his nose. “If- if you want me to go, I can just--" A small gesture towards the door. He clears his throat anxiously. “You- you’ve been very kind. I wouldn't want to, um...overstay...” Hell, she'd let him into her house when she'd thought he was a puppy, so...He can't imagine what she's thinking now.
