"True," Dorian admits. And he give Henry a nasty little smirk as he points out, "But unfortunately for you, you're interesting. I'm going to keep an eye on you even after we're not paired, Henry."
Henry sits up, wiping the rest of the blood from his face. He's absolutely exhausted and angry, but he doesn't want to show weakness. He doesn't want to pass out in front of him.
"I suppose I can do the same to you, but you're just a person."
But if Dorian continues his consent, Henry will absolutely be spying on him as much as he can.
"Exactly. I insist on lowering myself to humanity's level, after all—and that's before my horrible tendency towards thinking about boobs."
He doesn't take away his consent, though. Mostly because he completely forgot that he needs to do that. Things might change with the next round of trauma.
The prospect of getting what he wants outweighs his arguments against the former.
"Black widow," he answers. "That cannot be controlled by that girl."
He pauses.
"I don't hurt people with them. I simply like them around."
With what energy he has left, he shows Dorian an attic room in a stately home. A small boy with jars of spiders, studying them. Writing about them. Drawing them.
Dorian blinks a little as the image hits his head. And that's...sad. A kid, sitting by himself, surrounded by jars of spiders. It's sad and lonely in a way that Dorian wasn't expecting.
"I believe you won't hurt anybody with them. But give me a backup choice in case the Admiral vetoes black widows anyway," Dorian points out. Because it doesn't take a genius to point out that a dangerous spider might be denied.
"I'll ask him," Dorian says, with a nod. There's a pause before, "Right. You look like you're about to pass out. I'll let you head back to your room or take a nap here or...whatever. But I'll shoot you a message or actual spiders once I have the results."
"Says the man who was profusely bleeding?" Dorian dryly responds. But if Henry wants to pretend he's fine, then Dorian'll let him.
"Sleep it off, Creel," he says, with a little nod, before turning to leave. Because Henry might not want to, but Dorian sure as hell wants to go ahead and take a nap.
Henry bristles at the last name, at his father's name, but doesn't move. He physically can't. He knows he's going to be out for hours before he'll gave the energy to crawl back to the dorms and sleep properly, but he considers this a win.
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"You're simply a temporary warden."
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"I suppose I can do the same to you, but you're just a person."
But if Dorian continues his consent, Henry will absolutely be spying on him as much as he can.
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He doesn't take away his consent, though. Mostly because he completely forgot that he needs to do that. Things might change with the next round of trauma.
"Any particular type of spider, by the way?"
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"Black widow," he answers. "That cannot be controlled by that girl."
He pauses.
"I don't hurt people with them. I simply like them around."
With what energy he has left, he shows Dorian an attic room in a stately home. A small boy with jars of spiders, studying them. Writing about them. Drawing them.
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"I believe you won't hurt anybody with them. But give me a backup choice in case the Admiral vetoes black widows anyway," Dorian points out. Because it doesn't take a genius to point out that a dangerous spider might be denied.
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"Fish spiders will be fine," he mutters. "They are no danger to people...or pets."
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He isn't grateful for Dorian. Not really. But he doesn't actually...hate him. Understanding will come later.
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"Sleep it off, Creel," he says, with a little nod, before turning to leave. Because Henry might not want to, but Dorian sure as hell wants to go ahead and take a nap.
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