He hadn't even thought to do a sweep of the floor first.
R jumps at the voice, jerking his head up as if he's been caught face deep in someone's rib cage and they weren't even done dying yet. Guilt swarms across him, his face flushes red from his own blood instead of someone else's and he whips around, dropping the package. It clatters to the floor, whatever's inside it heavy enough to hit the tiles with a metallic ring that echoes off the walls.
"Howard!" R blurts, gapes (bad habit), and gets to his feet, all in one motion. Compared to his zombie days, he's moving at lightning speed now.
He stares. What is...Howard wearing? It's fleecy, fluffy and there seems to be an ongoing bunny theme. Trying to take it all in a stride, R stoops to collect the half-opened package and heads over to Howard without checking left and right for attacking Tributes who could've been drawn to the noise. Lucky for them they seem to be minding their own business, wherever they are. R looks Howard up and down, something that could be a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's been awhile since they shared Christmas over old vinyl and hugging the toilet for dear life (okay, so that part was mostly him), and he can still remember Howard's fingers massaging his scalp into control under the hot water. Funny how memories are when you're alive. Even the vomiting didn't seem too bad in retrospect.
He adjusts the package in his arm, the top of what might be a crowbar poking out. "Was this yours?"
R holds out his sponsor's gift, his expression open, trusting, and above all, pink. Compared to his old tone, he looks positively saturated with life now from his hair to his hands.
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R jumps at the voice, jerking his head up as if he's been caught face deep in someone's rib cage and they weren't even done dying yet. Guilt swarms across him, his face flushes red from his own blood instead of someone else's and he whips around, dropping the package. It clatters to the floor, whatever's inside it heavy enough to hit the tiles with a metallic ring that echoes off the walls.
"Howard!" R blurts, gapes (bad habit), and gets to his feet, all in one motion. Compared to his zombie days, he's moving at lightning speed now.
He stares. What is...Howard wearing? It's fleecy, fluffy and there seems to be an ongoing bunny theme. Trying to take it all in a stride, R stoops to collect the half-opened package and heads over to Howard without checking left and right for attacking Tributes who could've been drawn to the noise. Lucky for them they seem to be minding their own business, wherever they are. R looks Howard up and down, something that could be a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's been awhile since they shared Christmas over old vinyl and hugging the toilet for dear life (okay, so that part was mostly him), and he can still remember Howard's fingers massaging his scalp into control under the hot water. Funny how memories are when you're alive. Even the vomiting didn't seem too bad in retrospect.
He adjusts the package in his arm, the top of what might be a crowbar poking out. "Was this yours?"
R holds out his sponsor's gift, his expression open, trusting, and above all, pink. Compared to his old tone, he looks positively saturated with life now from his hair to his hands.