[h2][color=fff79a]Iwao - Sharehouse[/color][/h2]

He [i]was[/i] a little tense, thinking about it. Musta let the broadcast get to him a bit more than he'd realized. It was some dark shit, even for him. Brawls and slugfests were crazy, violent, scary things, but not nearly on the level of just walking out one day and never even being [i]seen from[/i] again. Loneliest way a guy could ever go.

It'd probably be worse if it [i]didn't[/i] wig him out some, knowing that.

[color=fff79a]"I'm all good,"[/color] he replied, with a note of reassurance in his tone that likely was sort of aimed at himself as well as her. [color=fff79a]"Just the radio. Nasty stuff."[/color] 

As for her offer, he took a moment to regard the girl before him, smile plastered on her face as she sweetly presented him a way out. It was kind of her to spot it and offer her assistance, but a little something like bad vibes shouldn't stop a man from doing such a basic task as dishwashing. She'd already gone and cooked the fish for them all in the first place. Saddling her with the cleanup, when it wasn't anybody's job but his, could only speak to a paragon of sloth overtaking him. Was he okay with that? Even if she was just trying to help, was he really gonna quit after frowning a little?

[color=fff79a][i]Oh, thank you, but I can handle it. I'm a man of my word.[/i][/color]

He should have said that. He should have framed it like that. He knew so, deep within the fog, that it was the correct way to frame things. That positive was what he needed to be to shake everything clear. Positive and accountable. Owning your responsibility, action, and motivation. He knew. In this age of free information, it was impossible [i]not[/i] to know these guidelines for living.

It wasn't what came out of his mouth.

[color=fff79a]"It'd be lazy of me when it's my turn, wouldn't it?"[/color] he said, a rare wry edge creeping into his voice as he rinsed the next plate. [color=fff79a]"Thanks, but you shouldn't let me."[/color]

Ah, dammit. Too late now.

[@Ambra]