Another day of waking up to a bleak attic roof.
Blankets tangled around you like a cocoon- pelts layered around you, some strewn onto the floor.
It was yet again room temperature instead of freezing, which surprised you when you first pulled yourself out of bed, but when you went downstairs to be greeted by a blazing fire, you just nodded to yourself.
Techno put a whole lot more wood on before he left.
How considerate of him.
The fire made your morning hours quite a lot more enjoyable- especially after you found a spare slice of cake somehow stowed away in one of the basements chests.
You'd never understand why Techno had so many items, but it made finding surprises that much better.
Even if the cake was a bit stale.
Regardless, you did your usual, ate breakfast, ran around looking for odd jobs, and eventually, settled near the window.
Only, this time, when you settled down next to the glass, you caught the tail end of something walking around the bend of the house.
Carl.
Were you about to run outside just to mess with Carl??
Yes.
Yes you were.
You scurried around the house for a good few minutes gathering cloaks and coats- feeling super plush with the materials hanging over your shoulders.
Techno had a surprising number of cloaks- that seemed too small to fit him- most too big to fit you.
You liked to think he kept all his past cloaks, but it was only a funny thought that held no real proof.
Who were you to say how he got so many?
When you finally did scurry into the outside world, you weren't sure where Carl went- so you ran as carefully down the steps as you could, before flittering through the snow.
You didn't have to wander far.
Carl was in the open stable, munching on some of the hay Techno had left out for him.
"Hey there!" You spoke, waving your hand like Carl would actually be able to respond to you.
He did respond-
Not like a human would- but at the sudden sound of your voice his head jolted up and he settled his head in your direction.
He looked alarmed- ears high in the air, feet already shuffling to run.
Oh shit- nonono-
No need to run-
"Hey hey-" you whisper, stock still where you were in the snow, hands held out in a calming motion, "Your good, your good- I'm not gonna hurt ya-"
Such a jumpy thing.
Carl stamps his foot in the ground, and then stamps it again at your continued staring, before slowly walking out of the stable.
The moment he partially passed your figure, he skittles on his legs before full blown running.
Cantering a 'safe' distance away.
Because you clearly couldn't be trusted around him.
After reaching a good few feet away, he stopped, slowly turning to look at you.
Snowflakes were littering his fur, harsh wind pushing his mane in the wind. Every breath he took turned into a cloud of mist.
.
.
Well alright.
You're not sure how to move about in a situation like this.
Carl did not trust you.
Like owner like pet you guess.
So, with that in mind, you turned back around, heading for the basement door, leaving the outside snow in favor of searching for something.
Quickly slipping through the spruce doors as to not let the heat out, it only took you a small moment to find what you were looking for.
Surely this couldn't fail.
Your own grin was directed to what you held in your hand.
A few golden carrots was sure to lure him in.
When you walked back outside, Carl was exactly where he was, still stamping his feet with alarm written all over his body language.
"Hey hey- here buddy- I got ya-" you glance down at the carrots before looking back up, "A tasty snack to chew on-"
His ears flicked back at your voice, and you don't think he understood anything you just said.
Instead, you lift the carrots into the air, wiggling them around like that would help him understand what you were holding.
And to an extent, you think he did see what they were.
His stance went from nervous tacking, to sudden acknowledgment. Curiosity was in the flick of his ears now- and his extended neck towards you said he wanted to know exactly what you were holding.
You took a step forward, taking his stance as progress, but instead of him staying in place, he spooked again, running farther out into the snow.
This.
This was going to take awhile.
With a harsh shiver, you plopped yourself onto the snow, crossing your legs and staring at him.
He looked confused again, before his ears flicked with that same curiosity he had before.
So, you waited.
A standoff with a horse.
Who would've thought you'd get to this point in your life.
Carl was... stubborn, you've come to realize.
He didn't want to move, he didn't want to approach, and even though he was curious, he seemed more then content to keep standing there.
So, you turned around, still sitting on the ground with crossed legs, but this time around showing your back to him.
No more watchful eyes settled on him.
Which should help.
You hoped.
Don't prey animals not like to be watched?
You think that's how that works.
A few minutes after you turned around, you heard a few hesitant footfalls in the background, before it turned into a walk cycle.
The footsteps got closer and closer, until right behind you stood a looming presence.
Slowly, you looked up, finding Carl's muzzle lowered right down near the top of your head.
A harsh snort came out of him, blowing hot horse breath all over your face-
With the softest voice you could, you say, "...Hey bud-... gotcha a snacko-"
Gently, you reach your hand up, still holding one of the golden carrots, and now that he was this close it didn't take him long to realize exactly what it was you were holding.
His snout moved to your hand, puffing at the carrot before trying to take the whole thing into his mouth.
Which he did. You just kinda... let him have it and he downed the whole thing.
He snorted a few times, shaking his big fuzzy head around before narrowing in on the other carrots you had.
Alright.
He's not prying these out of you- not until you're standing-
So you stand- and he scurries a small distance back from you, scared with your movement and letting his heavy hooves clomp in the snow. Two beady eyes watched your hand extend with another golden carrot.
To which he huffs.
And then hesitantly walks in your direction again.
When he gets close enough, he crunches the carrot away- letting out another few happy snorts.
So you do the right thing, and lure him even closer with your last carrot- to which he happily huffs again exageratedly shaking his head up and down in a yes pattern.
A few hearty crunches, and his nose was pressed against the glove of your hand searching for more golden carrots.
He's.
He's so adorable.
You have no words to describe how soft he looks with he big ol snoot and winter coat.
Sneakily, you raise a hand, giving his neck a few pats, retracting soon after as to not push your luck.
With you last carrot gone, you have nothing else to give him, leaving you to awkwardly stand and look at Carl as he holds his head up to wait for another carrot.
His head flicks. From you, to your hands. Back and forth, like doing so would make you give him another.
When you didn't immediately give him more, he gave an impatient stamp of his foot, to which you muttered a, "Don't have anymore bud- sorry." You look him in his soft horse snoot before saying, "I do have pets, if you want pets."
He doesn't at all understand a word you were saying, but perhaps through tone of voice he assumed you were trying to tell him you didn't have anymore carrots?
Which he didn't belive for a moment, leaning his head down and nudging your hands again, searching for more, when you very clearly didn't have any.
You lift your hands up, laying them flat and letting him sniff at your gloved hands, "See? No more."
His ears flicked back at his finding, and with that, he trots off back into the snowy fields.
What.
What an indignant and stubborn horse.
You love him.
With a laugh, you stare at his retreating figure, before deciding you've been chilled enough for one day. Literally.
You headed back inside, stripped all your layers of coats and cloaks off, before heading to the fire place to sit down and warm up.
With a steady hand, you tossed more wood on the fire, feeling the heat crackle against your skin.
The pelts that have been lying around the fire were warm with heat, so with a collective jumble, you sunk under a few of them and just... layed down.
So comfy and warm.
This was pretty nice.
You're not sure for how long you sat there, but at one point you think you almost fell asleep? You had been nodding off with how warm everything was, occasionally coming to just to toss more wood on.
Eventually, with time, you heard a familiar clunking against the steps.
The walking cycle sounded off, but no one else visited this cabin aside from Techno, so you shrugged it off and just kept lounging.
Techno's kilter went one, pause two-
Which is odd-
Because whoever was walking up the steps was going one, two, three- slam against the railings...? Three, pause four??
How did walk cycles even work?
You certainly don't know, but you were trying your best to tell who it was, and the more you thought about who it could be the more you started feeling like it wasn't Techno outside.
Until the door slammed open.
Stumbling footsteps, uncoordinated and sloppy, and almost the complete opposite to how Techno walks-
Yet there he was, stumbling in.
You jolted up, standing alarmed and watching as indeed, Techno had come in, door left open in his wake- lunges huffing and puffing like something was incredibly wrong with him-
"Techno are you-"
You didn't even get to finish your question when he ripped his mask off, sending it clattering against the ground- it slid until it hit the wall, and you swore you saw a piece of it crack.
He tried taking a step towards you, but stumbled just a bit too much, running into a wall and knocking off all sorts of items to the ground- a glass bottle shattering on the wood somewhere with all the mess-
What the hell happened to him.
You take a step towards him, reaching your arms out to try and steady him, but instead of accepting your small amount of help, he lunges for you, grappling his arms around your ribs, burying his head into your neck- heaving heavy breathes- and squeezing you into him-
Your face was all but forced into the fluff of the cape he still had yet to take off- the fur there nearly blinding you.
All of his weight was being leaned on you, thick arms still wrangled around your ribs, still holding you to him like if he didn't he'd tumble over.
It was as quiet as it could get with how harsh his breathes were coming out, and finally, hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around him as best you could.
So confused, but clearly he needed support, right?
His breath stuttered when you returned the hug.
"Hey- hey- what's.... whats wrong big guy...?"
He didn't answer.
He didn't even try to- still breathing heavy breaths against your neck-
He... he didn't seem right.
Something was just- off with him-
And you wanted to help- but how??
He wasn't speaking- wasn't communicating what was wrong- so how?
Here you were, straining to keep the both of you standing, subjected to the intense heat of his body- trying not to crumble to the floor because of how tight his hug was- and how heavy he was.
His chest was warm.
.
All at once-
The hug got too tight-
His arms turned from confined reassurance, to a deadly vice grip-
And when you tried wheezing out a rebuke for him-
Something sharp tore into the skin of your neck-
You barely registered the feeling- sharp, sharp, sharp- rip-
He-
Holy shit he just bit you-
You had the appropriate reaction.
Struggle.
But struggling was difficult when you were originally going for a hug-
Your two arms that were hugging him?
Well now they were struggling to reel back- to gain leverage in order to shove him off- but his back was so broad that doing so was nearly impossible-
OUCH-
FUCK-
It wasn't a fast bite- it was a slow bite- and the longer he was nestled near your neck- the harder he sunk his teeth into you-
You finally pulled your arms in- shoving him off of you- his arms just nearly getting loose enough for you to force him away-
He stumbled- partially hitting the wall- before stopping himself near the door.
Which he looked at.
An eery silence passed.
His hand rose, pressed against the spruce door, calmly applying pressure, watching as the cold air slowly got cut off.
The door silently closed, his hand sliding off the wood when it clicked shut.
Blood was dripping down his teeth and chin, most of it covering his tusks- and you watched him with a subdued horror.
What the actual hell was wrong with him.
What is happening to him right now.
The red in his eyes was the most saturated you've ever seen it- pupils narrowed so tightly they looked almost cat like- a feral- kind of wild look, that was settled on your neck.
He was hunched, heaving, and nearly scrunching in on himself.
His legs crouched, for the briefest moment- like a lion preparing to pounce-
And then he gave chase-
You flittering around him when he charged at you- using just how off put he was to your advantage- watching him hit his side into the top of the fire place before whipping back your way- to which you started for the door.
You got to the handle before an arm slammed down next to your head- the wall rattled at the force and you froze.
His arm was on the door.
You couldn't get out.
Hesitantly, you turned around, watching the red in his eyes flicker- blankly staring down at you.
And then- he paused- blinking- shaking his head- more blinking- like right now he was finally realizing what was happening.
He took a step back from you, taking his arm with him- watching you stare at him, his own hand raising to rub at his temple.
"...gods- what-" his hand dropped, and his alarmed expression settled on your neck, bitten, and bleeding, "..."
He nearly went slackjaw- before rushing away like he was burned, turning to dig into the chest he keeps medical supplies in-
He was silent. Wordless. Maybe even just as stunned as you.
You couldn't possibly fathom what made him so-
Aggressive.
You watch as he rustled through the chest, hands looking almost shaky when he pulled out one of the gauzes.
You were still standing by the door-
The door that was closed- the door you had tried to open before he caged you in with a brutal slam of his arm.
As soon as he found what he was looking for, he strut back over to you, applying pressure to your cut without a pause and blankly staring.
You couldn't help but flinch- in pain- and in remembrance of what just happened.
It stung, and the harder he pressed to try and stop bleeding the more he made it hurt- but something in you told you to keep your mouth shut about that.
He looked shaken himself.
Eyes looking.
Not at you, but at his hands. His still, somewhat shaky hands.
You struggled to find your voice- not at all understanding what just happened. Your blood was still dripping down his chin, and at this point you're not sure if he forgot about it in his haste to help you, or is purposely trying to ignore it to try and forget what he just did.
Your mouth opened.
Then closed.
A harsh puff of air came from you as you struggled.
"...What.... just happened...?" Techno flinched at your voice.
Your eyes wandered from his head, to his arm, to the hand pressed against your neck, and then outward again- watching his chest expand with a deep long breath.
"I don't know."
"Are you okay??" You ask, taking in the blood speckled across his white shirt that most assuredly wasn't yours. Too much splattered everywhere to be yours.
"I'm... alright."
"You don't sound convinced."
He puffs at you, "Technoblade never dies-"
Alright- number one, did he just refer to himself in the third person, number two, him dying doesn't correlate to whatever blood induced rage he was just in.
"Mentally, Techno. Not physically."
At that, he drops the front, frowning and showing his intense displeasure.
"Meh." He mutters, finally pulling his hand away from the bite on your neck.
Damn.
His jaw strength.
The skin around the mark was aching. Hell, you whole neck hurt- how deep did he bite you??
You wince when he starts dabbing something onto the bite, yet you speak regardless, "Don't meh me- now is the perfect time to tell me what's happening in your head." You pause, before gesturing to the bite, "I deserve to know, don't I?"
Another harsh eye lock takes place- you furrowing your brows with determination, him squinting in this disgruntled sort of way-
He huffs another huge sigh, and then goes, "Alright. If you are so, absolutely, desperate to know what happened today, then we're doing this the long way."
You nod, "Good."
"I am about to go into excruciating detail. About everything I did today."
"Yes? Was that not the point of me asking if you were okay or not?"
He sends you a look, not necessarily a bad look, just a fustrated, confused look, that fizzles out into acceptance.
"Well alright. If you're positive."
He pauses. One last time. Looking to you and waiting for you to say no, but all you do is squint, so he continues, "Well, I woke up today and I did what any good pet owner does. I went out to take care of Carl-... then I...-"
He froze, pursing his lips, before seemingly deciding to skip over something, "And then I thought that...-"
He paused again, blinking as he pondered over yet another thought, "You know, I'm regretting trying to go into detail."
You couldn't help but laugh, "You? Regretting your own decision??"
A flustered look wriggled onto his face before he pressed harder on the bite mark on your neck with a squint, "I'm the one helping fix you up-"
"You're also the one who made me need to get fixed up in the first place." You couldn't stop yourself from taking that jab at him.
He had no words to that. Just a guilty stare that got pointed to his hands.
"So...?" You drawl out, "What happened?"
Finally, he conceded to you.
No more run arounds, or avoiding, just a big sigh, before he started retelling what happened.
"I went out to look for your compass." The dabbing against your neck slows, and he pulls away, instead handing an instant health potion to you, "And what do you know- the people that live around where you probably dropped it aren't my biggest fans."
He shrugs, "Most of its self explanatory. A bit of a fight- some blood spilled here, some blood spilled there- just the usual plebs getting wrecked." The cloth he was using is being held idly in his hands- probably stained with blood at this point- and he crumbled it up in his palm, before throwing it to the (limited counter space) anvil.
He turned back to you- taking glances between the potion in your hand, and your face.
You ignore the obvious notion in favor of pressing him, "You've fought before. What happened to make you so-... off center?" You gesture to all the things he knocked onto the spruce floor, "You were stumbling when you came in- you genuinely weren't in your right mind."
You stare at him.
Watch as his face contorts.
Before he says anything, he taps a nail against the regen potion in your hand, "Drink."
You roll your eyes, but comply, uncorking it and chugging it down.
Sugary. Glistening melons were actually quite tasty all things considered.
When you re-lock eyes with him again, he's unwrapping a bandage, dead set on trying to fix what he did.
"Continue." You remind him, and he huffs, but does so, still continuing to bandage your neck.
"I don't know-" he grumbles, "I genuinely don't. One moment those nerds were trying to fight me, the next I drink a strength pot, and it was like..."
He pauses, leaning in to properly wrap your neck, pulling the material to his mouth and tearing where it connected to the roll with his bloody mouth. Which when he sees the red color stain the area of the bandage he bit, he winces.
You let him seal the bandage together- and not a moment after he finishes he sighs.
The scrunch of his eyebrows reeks of hesitation. Of mistrust- and embarrassment-
His eyes were going soft with an internal fight- one that you could only guess to understand.
So you did guess.
"...You.... I'm not going to mock you for feeling things Techno-..."
His eyes go even softer, hesitantly glancing up to you- so tentative, and unsure- like a wounded animal barely letting someone help pull them out of a swamp.
"...And I understand if you don't trust me enough to let me understand you, but, just know that I wouldn't do that to you."
You think you hit the right area in his mind. A nail on the head so to speak- because not a moment later of his eyes flickering between the two of your steadily calm ones, and he unfurls the tension in him. A hand slides down his face before he hunches, plopping his head right down onto your shoulder, exhaustion seeping out of him as he limply hung there.
So... drained looking.
He sounded so weak in his voice.
"...All I could see was red-.. blinding red- it was like the voices got a whiff of something intense- and they ripped into me so terribly that all I could do was follow them."
A shuttering breath escapes him, "They've never been that strong before."
You can feel the furrow of his brow against your skin, feel him get just a bit limper, "I've never been that strong before."
It was silent for a moment.
And you tried your best to understand his plight.
It's hard when you don't feel in control of yourself, and while you never directly experienced it as strongly as Techno clearly has- you could understand based on how angry you've gotten before. How angry you were after your mother died for one.. How much fustration builds when you 'need' to do something, but it was the 'wrong' or 'rash' thing to do.
"...If you ever feel that way again- just know that I can be there. To help ya out."
You lift a hand.
An arm.
Two arms.
Up- into the air-
Circling around to hug at his limp form- limp shoulders- and you were met with no resistance.
When you gave a gentle squeeze he sighed again, sinking farther- a small rumble in his chest building up into a chuff of air.
Several chuffs of air- that didn't quite sound like a human- much more reminiscent to the other half of his species- and then a popping noise deep in his chest.
Kinda of like... when a motorcycle is left idling?
A fast rhythm of popping that blurr together- vibrating in his chest and making you feel warm.
All your thoughts twisted down into one simple explanation.
A purr.
A purr you've never heard out of a creature before, but a purr nonetheless.
With a start, he reeled his head off your shoulder, stepping away from your figure with a snark of an embarrassed laugh, "Ew- that was disgusting- forget everything I just said- let's talk more about how much I wrecked those abandoned orphans livin' in New L'Mamberg-" the purr in his chest leaked into his voice- making the first few attempts at speaking sound very very strange, before it blurred into the rest of his talking- and like you expected, it was just good ol Techno's voice- grumbling and rasping.
"Was that a purr??"
His words halt themselves- his detailed conversation about how 'fun' it was to wreck everyone there screeching to a pause at your question.
It starts with the tips of his ears- the red flush tinging the tips before it spread across his face.
"No." He bluntly says- in his regular stoic voice- but the flush covering his nose- told you that yes.
Yes Techno purrs.
What an odd thing to say.
"I think you mean yes." You reply, watching the hue on his face get darker.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Okay.
You could let him get away with it.
You smile to yourself, and he squints at your grin- but regardless the topic is dropped, and you start thinking about his words.
Right.
Before you got distracted.
Something had clicked in your head at his statement.
He drank a strength potion? And directly after went ballistic?
Convient timing?
No.
Not at all.
He had to have accidentally grabbed one of the potions you made.
The potions you specifically put in a separate chest then his potions chest. The potion you put upstairs- near where you sleep.
And somehow he had to have grabbed it.
What fucking luck you have. Or well, he has.
You should've told him what you were doing when he caught you making potions. He never would have drank them if you had just told him-
But telling him just invites more questions- and more questions led to more pressure, and you didn't think you could have taken another high stress situation at that time.
"Where did you get your strength potions?" You ask.
He mumbles out a, "Chest upstairs." The flush is steadily fading.
"Why upstairs?"
"Ran out of strength pots downstairs, so I scavenged."
You sigh.
Ah yes.
Just perfect.
"Why?" He asks, cut eyebrow peeking upwards.
Which makes you sigh again.
You brought on this questioning yourself.
Might as well suck it up and be truthful for once in your life.
"Remember when I cut myself?"
He's silent.
"Well I was making potions."
Still silent.
"And this sounds wrong, and disgusting, but I was using some of my blood."
His eyes widen, making contact with your own as he straightens himself, "So what your tryna tell me is- your... blood did that to me."
"Yes...?"
"Ah."
He squints.
And you know exactly what's going through his head.
Answers. Now.
And very begrudgingly, you are now obligated to give them.
With a troubled heave of air, you start swinging a hand awkwardly to cross over your chest, "My blood does- terrible things to people." Your other arm crosses, "When it comes directly from me, not so much- it's too diluted." You glance to the brewing stand, "But when it gets filtered into something... raw- it gets, much, much more dangerous."
"Alright, alright." Techno nods, "Now tell me why you made them if they're supposedly so dangerous."
You want to cry in agony.
Questions.
Eck.
No.
You really don't want to answer them.
This is horrible.
But you have to.
It's literally the least you could do for someone who just experienced the potions full brunt effects.
"I wasn't actually sure how to make them, and I was paranoid because I think someone else knows what they can do with my blood." You grit out.
And again, you're faced with Techno squinting at you, clearly analyzing all the new information you gave him.
"Who exactly... was it that you were so scared of." His voice seemed to betray the thought that he was wondering if you were scared of him.
So scared, that you purposely made something you probably shouldn't have.
But it wasn't him you were scared of.
"...Dream..." You mumble, "I'm almost positive he was the one who shot me too. Don't quote that on me though."
All at once the atmosphere dropped. Something negative seeped into the air.
A blank look was smeared across Techno's face, one that was usually directed at enemies- and despite how monotone it looked, you could tell.
You could tell by the slight crease in his brow- from the darkened eyes and moderately pursed lips.
"I swear he's homeless." Even his voice was scarily level sounding, no maliciousness, just a grumbling rasp. Maybe even the smallest tone of humor jabbing it's way in.
Any normal onlooker would just see monotone Techno.
But he was angry.
Why was he angry?
You didn't know.
Regardless, you skimmed over why he was mad, continuing conversation from the potions, "Anyways, I'm gonna have to ask you to never take potions out of the attic chest unless you're positive it's one of yours."
You lift a hand, poking him in his chest as though to accentuate your words, to which he idly follows your fingers movements.
"...." He doesn't say yes or no, but you take his silence as an agreement.
"Do you have the rest of my potions?"
"Drank them." He says.
And you smash your hand to your head with the information. Not good.
Not good at all.
But alright.
This was doable.
Maybe.
Kinda.
Let's hope the potions already burnt it's way out of his blood.
"Haha. Okay." You say.
"Why ya asking...?"
.
Deep breaths.
Techno doesn't get easily phazed by things.
"They're kind of..."
Oo boy.
"Addictive...?"
Techno takes the news like the mad lad he is, and by that- he just blankly stares at you, with his finally, truly impassive gaze. No more anger lingering, no more flush- just.... blank.
With his silence you scramble to keep talking, "I don't know if it effects you differently because you're not fully human, but- having that much strength just kinda- makes the brain go into 'I can fight anyone' mode, before fading out into 'why don't I have that mode anymore'."
In response, to all of that information, he just rubs his chin in thought.
Clearly thinking about strategy as opposed to actual health and safety.
"I do have to say- those were op strength pots." He says with a huff of amusement, "I accidentally knocked out a houses support beams with a single hit."
Jeez.
"And then you drank all three of them." You tack on.
He sent you an exasperated look, "They only lasted for like forty seconds- and the strength man- the strength- I could farm so many potatoes with that-"
"Or kill so many people."
He winces, but doesn't disagree. Though if anything- that thought makes him more interested looking.
You huff, "Not to mention long term effects- a person's body isn't meant to be working that hard- you take too many and you could quite literally have a heart attack."
"Technoblade never dies." He mumbles, and you again blanch at the blatant use of that phrase.
Because no.
Techno, as far as your concerned- is just as mortal as everyone else.
Just to prove a point, you reach a hand out-
You feel him flinch, but regardless he seems so surprised that he just lets you grab his arm.
The white, somewhat fancy looking sleeves to his somewhat fancy looking shirt are easy to push up to his elbow-
And there it is.
Three lines-
Proof of just how mortal he was.
Three.... very, very oddly colored lines.
Red?
That...
Lines aren't colored. They always have a matte darkness to them, as through someone wrote them on with ink.
But lines aren't red-
Techno is looking at you-
You can feel his stare burning into the top of your head, but you refuse to meet his gaze, too busy thumbing over his three- red- lines.
Blood red lines at that- bloody and inky- and-
Not mortal? But mortals always had three lines? Why would he have three lines if he wasn't mortal?
Finally- you peel your eyes off the mark- trailing up his chest until you settled onto his eyes.
He doesn't answer your obvious question- nor does he prod you for your thoughts- but he seems very adamant on trying to gage what was running through your head.
His eyes flickered between your brows- to your eyes- to the nervous grip you still had on his arm- long lashes feather light against his skin when he finally blinked.
"...I should go to sleep." You mumble. Thumbing over the red lines one last time before releasing his arm- which then smoothly fell back to his side.
No agreement- or disagreement- just Techno idly watching as you make your way upstairs.
Maybe you and him had more in common then you thought.