[ He can't help but smile at the string of thoughts spilling out of Betty's mouth, like she can't even filter her words properly, but he finds it sweet more than anything. Relaxing too, soothing, like the first wave of relief in years, water given to a man just coming out of a desert. It's how he feels seeing her now, hearing her, getting to be this close even if they're not touching anymore.

Part of him wishes they were, part of him worries if that's too much— for him, her, or them both. They never really had boundaries set between them but now he's not so sure if that's still how things are. ]

It does. Perfect. [ But then that's how he's always seen Betty, how he always will. She could be bald for all he cares and she would still be perfect to him.

He lifts a hand up to his own hair when she mentions a shower, looking somewhat apologetic for showing up here looking like crap. Even if he doesn't feel like crap, honest. ] I'm... a shower would be nice, actually. I need to shave, anyway. And probably trim my hair. [ It's a mess of curls right now, too long and untamed, since he hasn't really cut it for a while now. ] Don't suppose you have a pair of hair shears lying around, do you?