[Dave looks up, looks back down at the sunglasses in his hands, and then just wraps his arms around Karkat's torso, presses his head to Karkat's stomach, breathes out. There, first contact on Dave's own initiative since this all started. He's getting there.

Karkat said not to apologize anymore, so he just mumbles something senseless into Karkat's shirt, something eloquent like "mmnrrhph." He shakes his head without letting go, mussing his own hair against Karkat's stomach, and stays there, shivering only faintly now.

What does he need? Nothing, he wants to say, everything Dave's made of understands that's the only answer there's ever been, the only one that's safe when he feels like this.

...But.]

J...juice? Probably some under the bed. And...leave the door open, n-not all the way but enough.

[So he can hear movement, so they both can, so Karkat will know he's okay. It takes weird double reach-around thinking, trying to guess what someone else would want in Dave's position because reading his own meters is impossible, it's like all labels are written in another language and then scrambled.

He turns his head so he can stare at the floor a moment, try to think if there's anything else, then looks up at Karkat. After a moment, he hooks his shades in the collar of Karkat's shirt.]

Won't take a minute. P-promise.