[The quiet in his head doesn't burst like he thought it might, but expands all at once, like he's engulfed in a sphere of stillness so complete even gravity can't touch it, leaving a weightless pit in his stomach as if he's falling, as if his foot missed a stair.

But really, he's still here sitting on the edge of his bed next to Karkat, who's spoken. Karkat, who's pale for him.]

Yeah, I figured that out, like, a second ago.

[It's really, really hard not to pull the blanket over his head, or to roll over and hide his face in the quilt, or to just give up all pretensions to dignity and crawl under the bed. But that would be rude and hurtful, and also, why does he even want to in the first place, what is he even feeling right now.

Light. Too light, like he's unbalanced, but also...Dave's face is warm. And he doesn't want Karkat to go right now, he doesn't want him to get small again and pull back and leave.

Holy shit, it must have been so hard for him to say anything. To say anything to Dave.

He breathes in.]

What...would it change. If things changed.

[The weird squirmy feeling just gets worse, and, flustered, Dave pulls the blanket up, ducks into it so the bottom half of his face is hidden. It muffles his words, too. He finds this an acceptable inconvenience for the security it affords.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't remembering what else Ashley said, too. About moirallegiance, and doing better. About not leaving Karkat in such a bad place.

Fuck.]

I mean, what is it...like. For you. To feel that way.