He looks at Terumi for a moment, dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? I didn’t mean the weed,” he’s not sure if Terumi was actually stupid enough to make that mistake, or if he was just too high to realize it at this point. Either way, neither of them are really in a condition to be making too harsh of judgement about each other. “You told me that I can’t roll one for shit. If you want it rolled well, do it yourself, asshole,” or maybe they were.
He sinks down further into the couch, the opposite of Terumi’s straightening. He thinks briefly on their duality, how each of them is the opposite of the other, foils in the truest of fashions. Then he realizes that he hasn’t a damn clue what he’s thinking about. They might as well be ants crawling around on a massive chocolate chip cookie for all the sense he can make of the world right now. He just hopes that nobody intrudes, or he (at the least) would be crushed under their steel-toed shoes.
“What, like you’ve never made a mistake? You can lie to yourself about having always been perfect all you want. But I know… I know.”
The insult was so pointed when it came from Hazama’s mouth. Terumi continued to cling to the blunt pinched between his forefingers; the look he directed from the corner of his eyes was dagger sharp -- it was a warning with no follow - through. It was so painful to admit for him, but he relied on Hazama; the man was an anchor unto this SHITTY world, a means to an end, a tool, but not one Terumi could so easily discard. How aggravating, how friggin’ ANNOYING.
He did not pass the blunt. Opted, instead, to take a deep breath from it, to let out some of the tension that was beginning to knot itself into his body --- then turned his head and blew the smoke into Hazama’s direction. Hazama may have been a glorified mannequin designed by Relius Clover, but ... he was a well - designed mannequin. Terumi hoped he choked.
❛ Ehh ------ ? Mistakes? Oh, sure I’ve made some. I mean ... aren’t YOU here, y’know, without me inside you? HAHAHA ... ❜ He held the blunt out for Hazama then, head dipped down so he might peer at Hazama through a veil of dark eyelashes, like a tiger through a cage of banana leaves, waiting to pounce.
He felt so RELAXED ... but Terumi wouldn’t have minded teaching Hazama a lesson, or several -- IF PROMPTED.
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