โZs, slnvldmvi tfb! R mvevi tlg blfi mznv- R dzmgvw gl zhp yvuliv R wft gsilfts blfi gsrmth, wl blf szev zmbgsrmt R xzm xovzm nb uzxv drgs?โ
โWirefaceโ paused for a moment before his expression contorted, remembering the homeowner couldnโt understand him. He sighed, thinking briefly before motioning to his mouth. The wounds didnโt seem to be very healed, light scabbing covering the ones that didnโt move as much whenever he spoke. Surely talking hurt for him, but he kept at it anyways despite the language barrier.
โNb nlfgs. R mvvw gl xovzm rg. R wlmโg gsrmp gsvb...Wl blf szev zmbgsrmt? Zoxlslo, xlgglm yzoo, mzkprm?โ
He made a mock rubbing motion around his mouth, as if he held a rag and was pressing it to his wounds. His expression was hopeful.
The Homeowner blinked slowly at the burst of garbled speech, his brain tripping over the cipher the same way it always did. He stared at Wireface in silence for a moment, then dragged a hand down his own face.
โโฆRight. That again.โ
He wasnโt annoyed, not exactly. More likeโฆ defeated. The way someone feels when theyโve been handed a puzzle they know theyโre going to fail, but they still try anyway.
Wireface motioned to his mouth, scabbed wounds stretching with painful effort.
The Homeownerโs eyes flicked to the movement. He frowned. Not disgusted, more like concern he refused to voice.
Talking still hurts him. Why does he keep doing it?
Wireface mimed wiping around his mouth with a rag.
The Homeownerโs expression softened by a fraction, a rare shift in his features.
He let out a quiet sigh and stepped back from the counter.
"โฆYou want something to clean them with."
Not a question. More like an acknowledgement.
He moved, opening a drawer near the sink. He hesitated, not because he feared Wireface, but because he never knew what supplies would make things worse.
He muttered under his breath as he rummaged:
โI swear I had disinfectant somewhereโฆ unless someone else used it forโ never mind.โ
A few seconds later, he returned with a clean cloth and a bottle of antiseptic he wasnโt sure would sting or not.
He held them out, stopping a foot short of Wireface, not afraid, justโฆ respectful of space.
Another pause. His eyes flickered to Wirefaceโs wounds again.
โDonโt talk so much if it hurts. No oneโs going anywhere.โ
The words slipped out before he could stop them. He looked away, pretending he hadnโt meant to sound reassuring.
"And if that stuff burns, donโt blame me. Itโs all Iโve got.โ
He stood there a moment longer, then his thoughts spiraled quietly, at least he asked. Thatโsโฆ something. Better than the ones who just show up and bleed on the floor.
โโฆSit. Iโll get more if you need it.