"I just -- it's b-bad enough it's all over me. . ." Victor presses his hands to his face for a moment, trying to get his head to work. It's like, after the excitement in the street, he's trying to go on autopilot for a bit, but his stupid brain isn't quite letting him. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Calm. Just -- stay calm. No more freakouts. We're going to wash away all this blood, and then -- well. He's not sure, but washing away all this sticky red is probably a good first step.

Temple-kissing would make him very uncomfortable, if only because of the possible memories it would bring up. Ruffling his hair -- maybe after he's calmed down and gotten settled. Right now, though, he's trying to keep himself from having another meltdown -- and besides, there's probably some blood in there too.

"You've d-done really enough already," Victor tells him, managing to make the corners of his mouth go up. "I'm s-surprised you didn't run screaming when I--" He stops, shakes his head. "Thank you." He rinses off his own hands under the water, shivering a bit at the cold. Gets the job done, at least.