Dirk isn't listening. Doesn't care what they say. What a shock. Ranboo whines softly, closes their eyes again... but fine. Whatever.
They try. They plant their hands flat against the bed, very slowly push themselves up on trembling arms; the muscles wrapped around their chest still ache, and the pain worsens as they come as upright as they can, their breathing harsh with it and features screwing up tight.
He wavers as he sits there, trembling; he shoots a glance at Dirk, one that is weak and exhausted, but something sharp sits just beneath it. Anger-- faint and unclear in its exact source, whether it's forcing them to continue living like this or seemingly refusing to listen to their protests once again-- lights the otherwise dim distance of their gaze.
no subject
They try. They plant their hands flat against the bed, very slowly push themselves up on trembling arms; the muscles wrapped around their chest still ache, and the pain worsens as they come as upright as they can, their breathing harsh with it and features screwing up tight.
He wavers as he sits there, trembling; he shoots a glance at Dirk, one that is weak and exhausted, but something sharp sits just beneath it. Anger-- faint and unclear in its exact source, whether it's forcing them to continue living like this or seemingly refusing to listen to their protests once again-- lights the otherwise dim distance of their gaze.