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"Well, that's an improvement on the crying."

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"'S nice," he mumbles.

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"That was kind of the idea."

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"I like you. It's actually terrifying how much I like you," he says dreamily. "At least you're a Miles. I have some hope of figuring you out well enough to avoid absolutely fucking everything up."

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"You're such a cheerful, carefree soul," Stalas says dryly. "I like you too."

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Giggle-sniffle.

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Continued neckrubs.

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Mark beams. "You like making me happy," he announces, like this is just about the best fact he has ever learned.

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"I. Yeah," says Stalas. "Yeah, I really do."

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Mark hums contentedly.

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Stalas smiles.

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"Mmmmyou're so nice. Teach me to breathe..." he mumbles.

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"Eh?"

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"Conversation I had with Miles once. I told him trust was like air to him, and I'd lived my life in a vacuum by comparison."

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...

"Wow. I can see why you depress him so much. I want to - I don't know what I want to do. Teach you to breathe, maybe."
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"You can. You will. You are," says Mark.

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"...I'm still adjusting to the idea that I'm not going to die horribly, alone in the dark, without ever seeing another friendly face," says Stalas. "So I want you know I'm speaking with empathy when I say you need to raise your standards."

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"...What?" says Mark, half-laughing.

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"I like you. I like the faces you make when I give you neck rubs. I care about the horrible shit you've apparently gone through. Those are all fairly basic things! I mean, I'm not going to forbid you from appreciating me - just - this is not the best it can possibly get."

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"It's the best it has gotten. It's pretty close to the best I can imagine," says Mark, closing his eyes. "Disregarding any thoughts I may or may not have had about you and daggers."

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Stalas snorts. "Keep dreaming, human boy," he says. "But you can have all the neck rubs you want."

The neck rubs definitely show no sign of stopping.
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"I'm like... two, three years older than you are," says Mark. "Dwarf boy. What if I want infinite neck rubs?"

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"Then I guess we'll be up here for a while."

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