[... Face-sized waffle. Right. Like Karkat doesn't know Dave well enough to see the attempt at levity for what it is, much less the implicit acknowledgment that yeah, trying to bail had been a dick move. He is so glad that they can have this open dialogue between them, it's fucking magical.

As vitriolic as his thought processes are, though, they aren't the sort he'd want to share; he's been petty enough. Besides, it isn't Dave's fault that he has to tiptoe around Karkat's feelings like they're a rabid cholerbear. That's—ugh. Fuck, why won't his think pan just stop?

He curls into Dave a little more and shuts his eyes, more grateful for the arms around him than ever. He isn't even thinking about standing, shit's overrated anyway. Maybe next sweep.]

I'm glad you stopped me.

[It sounds stupid and doesn't address Dave's question at all, but he's building up to that, really. He just needs to make this clear before getting into anything.

Shifting restlessly, he adjusts his hold on Dave and stretches his legs out under him, trying to get more comfortable. Why do they keep ending up on the floor like this? No, god, stop procrastinating. Tell him.]

It's—I'm not good at it. At saying when I need someone. [Because that wasn't obvious? He shudders and tightens his hold again.] Or having a moirail who—who's actually around.

[To say the least. And, even if there had been that familiar jolt of fear, he'd managed to push past it, keep from completely fucking spiraling into his usual whatever-the-fuck those were when he thought of Gamzee. He's getting better.

He traces idle patterns on Dave's back for a second or two before concluding,]

I'll try to get better at—at telling you when I need you to, uh. To shoosh me or whatever.

[Was that casual enough. Say it was casual enough. Just lie, he doesn't care.]