[Maybe it’s both. The mistletoe and the fact that being a bat means he feels… less like himself. Or rather, less like he has to keep to old habits, to wield flippancy and flamboyancy as a sort of shield against vulnerability.

Well. No point in overthinking it. Not right now. The offer is reassuring, and one he doesn’t mind humoring in this moment. He opens his eyes again, straightening.]

I hardly know where to start. We might just pick a floor, one day, and hope I stumble across my new favorite hobby in the process.