[He glances at her, standing at her shoulder and he almost asks. Except the answer isn't important and she's obviously trying to get him into the room quickly without actually pushing him. The same way he's probably obviously trying to avoid going into the room without flat out refusing. He does look down in surprise, distracted from both his aversion to the room and his curiosity about royal mating practices on her world, when she puts her earring in his palm. It's still warm from her skin. After a moment he closes his fingers around it. Earring communicators, functional, beautiful and something he thinks most people from Earth at least would completely miss. He wonders if they're meant to be overlooked like that.
Again though, he doesn't ask.
Because that was a very obvious dismissal and while he could keep stalling he doesn't want to push like that. Not yet at least. She's giving him free choice - or at least the illusion of free choice and he doesn't want to damage that. So he exhale long and it shakes a little but then his lips firm and his eyebrows come down. He doesn't walk straight into his cell though. instead he turns and walks over to the table he'd left his restraints on, gathering them up before walking back and past her without letting himself hesitate into the room. If someone does come, it wouldn't do to have them see his restraints and know she'd let him loose that completely, bracelet or no. He sets them down on the bed and doesn't turn around. He doesn't want to see the wall drop back into place and seal him away. It takes all his muscle control not to panic or try to bolt, staring at the wall until he hears it shut and he's entombed. Buried in a wall. That's a Poe story, isn't it?
He isn't sure how long he stands that way before he can finally breathe again. He still won't turn around and look at where the wall's closed on him. Instead he distracts himself with the surroundings he can see and eventually lets the lure of the bathroom seduce him. It's - opulent and that's an understatement. Everything is white stone with silver veins and pastel colors. The tub alone might as well be a jacuzzi and its already full of slow moving water that feels sinfully warm when he dips a finger in it.
He resists the urge to groan. When was the last time he had a real bath? Long before Kerberos. He knows he should be sleeping but - as needs go, as bad as his sleep is, cleanliness is a low dull ache. He realizes there are probably monitors in the bathroom but being a Galra slave has striped any modesty from him that the military hadn't already and when he wants to cover up these days its to hide his scars. Shirtless he hasn't even been able to do that. He sets her earring down on a sink counter, finds the towels, finds the soap, finds the toilet, figures out how to work one of the showers, set back behind a half-wall with a illusion of water coursing across its surface. He turns the heat of the water from the shower on too hot, turns the pressure on too hard and does his best to scour his skin clean. The bath is a luxury and he can't take that but he can scrub his skin until its red, ducking his head under the water again and again until his lungs burn for air and maybe, just maybe, it will clean even just an inch of the Galra taint off of him.]
no subject
Again though, he doesn't ask.
Because that was a very obvious dismissal and while he could keep stalling he doesn't want to push like that. Not yet at least. She's giving him free choice - or at least the illusion of free choice and he doesn't want to damage that. So he exhale long and it shakes a little but then his lips firm and his eyebrows come down. He doesn't walk straight into his cell though. instead he turns and walks over to the table he'd left his restraints on, gathering them up before walking back and past her without letting himself hesitate into the room. If someone does come, it wouldn't do to have them see his restraints and know she'd let him loose that completely, bracelet or no. He sets them down on the bed and doesn't turn around. He doesn't want to see the wall drop back into place and seal him away. It takes all his muscle control not to panic or try to bolt, staring at the wall until he hears it shut and he's entombed. Buried in a wall. That's a Poe story, isn't it?
He isn't sure how long he stands that way before he can finally breathe again. He still won't turn around and look at where the wall's closed on him. Instead he distracts himself with the surroundings he can see and eventually lets the lure of the bathroom seduce him. It's - opulent and that's an understatement. Everything is white stone with silver veins and pastel colors. The tub alone might as well be a jacuzzi and its already full of slow moving water that feels sinfully warm when he dips a finger in it.
He resists the urge to groan. When was the last time he had a real bath? Long before Kerberos. He knows he should be sleeping but - as needs go, as bad as his sleep is, cleanliness is a low dull ache. He realizes there are probably monitors in the bathroom but being a Galra slave has striped any modesty from him that the military hadn't already and when he wants to cover up these days its to hide his scars. Shirtless he hasn't even been able to do that. He sets her earring down on a sink counter, finds the towels, finds the soap, finds the toilet, figures out how to work one of the showers, set back behind a half-wall with a illusion of water coursing across its surface. He turns the heat of the water from the shower on too hot, turns the pressure on too hard and does his best to scour his skin clean. The bath is a luxury and he can't take that but he can scrub his skin until its red, ducking his head under the water again and again until his lungs burn for air and maybe, just maybe, it will clean even just an inch of the Galra taint off of him.]