[it's sort of funny how easy Dave is to read when he's not wearing his shades — or maybe it's more that the usual stoic lucidity is hard to maintain when one has a stubbornly persistent fever that's only been climbing as the days pass.]

[because he looks confused. he even glances back at the bed, as if the bed itself is going to go ahead and confirm Ryuji's question, that yes, he did in fact fall out of it. it was hilarious, too, the bed would say, in that complete slapsticky total lack of grace sort of way. if it were a vine, it would have gone viral.]

[but it's something else, too. it's trying to piece together the idea of having company he likes when he's also feeling close to his worst. like he's almost not sure what that'd even be like, much less what he could do to be a comfort. because he wants to be that, too.]

You don't mind? [... hang on, the gears are still turning.]

Wait, that's a stupid question. You wouldn't be here if you minded. I mean — it's definitely not a bad idea, either. It's probably the smartest thing I've heard all week.

[still ... still turning.]

What era are we talking about, though? If I'm gonna be fossilized shit, I want to pick whether I'm Jurassic or Mesozoic shit. And the dinosaur that made me.

[the sad thing is, this isn't really all that different from a normal conversation with Dave.]