[ those few minutes of silence were somewhat nerve-racking, in a way itadori isn't sure whether it's a sign of appreciation or further mistrust. he expected an allegation, something as atrocious as poisoning this meal, imagined how matters would escalate beyond repair— while he prepared himself for the worst, he also embraced the possibility of it being something else. longing, nostalgia maybe? dabi had that look on his face.
itadori stayed quiet, allowed the other a moment to dwell in his own reflections. all he did was sulk on his seat, fingers crossed between his knees; staring. his eyes followed each movement, from opening the lid, to the way dabi gorged on his food— all of them came in with a sense of relief, and itadori's shoulders eased, lips curling up. at least that part passed without any issues. he'll take that win. ]
I'm glad you like it. Here ...
[ leaning forward, he picked up the 'extra' pair of chopsticks, which might've suggested itadori planned to share the feast, but he had a change of heart in the last second. the side dish shouldn't be neglected, so he picked a piece of the teriyaki tofu and dropped it on dabi's share; then took another piece for himself; chewing slowly. it's a new dish, but the flavors are on point, might compliment dabi's taste buds, even if he's not a fan of tofu. ]
I'm not pushing. If I was, I'd just show you what you're missing out! I mean ... look!
[ he runs his hand seductively over a ragged cushion, trying to pretend there aren't any dust bunnies stockpiling between his fingers as he speaks- ]
It's sooooo comfy.
[ yes, he gets it. dabi lost faith in all humanity, and any kind gesture is a reason for doubt. the villain will not warm up to him over a silly joke, and he understood it will take proper effort and tolerance to make it work. however, that's the fucking issue. itadori didn't have time to spare. if anything, he's almost certain that man wouldn't entertain this anymore, and this could be it. their last chance.
there's beauty in his raw honesty; this boy lacked the skills to be manipulating— he wore his heart on his sleeves. ]
no subject
itadori stayed quiet, allowed the other a moment to dwell in his own reflections. all he did was sulk on his seat, fingers crossed between his knees; staring. his eyes followed each movement, from opening the lid, to the way dabi gorged on his food— all of them came in with a sense of relief, and itadori's shoulders eased, lips curling up. at least that part passed without any issues. he'll take that win. ]
I'm glad you like it. Here ...
[ leaning forward, he picked up the 'extra' pair of chopsticks, which might've suggested itadori planned to share the feast, but he had a change of heart in the last second. the side dish shouldn't be neglected, so he picked a piece of the teriyaki tofu and dropped it on dabi's share; then took another piece for himself; chewing slowly. it's a new dish, but the flavors are on point, might compliment dabi's taste buds, even if he's not a fan of tofu. ]
I'm not pushing. If I was, I'd just show you what you're missing out! I mean ... look!
[ he runs his hand seductively over a ragged cushion, trying to pretend there aren't any dust bunnies stockpiling between his fingers as he speaks- ]
It's sooooo comfy.
[ yes, he gets it. dabi lost faith in all humanity, and any kind gesture is a reason for doubt. the villain will not warm up to him over a silly joke, and he understood it will take proper effort and tolerance to make it work. however, that's the fucking issue. itadori didn't have time to spare. if anything, he's almost certain that man wouldn't entertain this anymore, and this could be it. their last chance.
there's beauty in his raw honesty; this boy lacked the skills to be manipulating— he wore his heart on his sleeves. ]
Can I sit next to you, then?
[ he is stubborn, too. ]