[There's absolutely no spark to that as he gets up and kneels in front of Deku, and carefully peels off his blazer, wincing as the cotton of the sleeve rubs against his wound. He sets it aside for now, and turns his face somewhere else so he doesn't have to stare at his disgusting hand or at Deku as he stitches it back together.]
The rest is in my pocket.
[He can't really bring himself to pull it out... it's his own hand. His own disgusting, grey, rotting hand.]
no subject
[There's absolutely no spark to that as he gets up and kneels in front of Deku, and carefully peels off his blazer, wincing as the cotton of the sleeve rubs against his wound. He sets it aside for now, and turns his face somewhere else so he doesn't have to stare at his disgusting hand or at Deku as he stitches it back together.]
The rest is in my pocket.
[He can't really bring himself to pull it out... it's his own hand. His own disgusting, grey, rotting hand.]