[the box is grabbed, wedged into his lap while he settles his cast across his crotch; the thin fingers poking out of it have a few bandaids wrapped around them, stupid ones, with stars and hearts on]
[that clumsy scarred hand knocks the chopsticks to the side (he was actually really good at them, before -- before his dominant hand became a little less useful)]
[the fork is already scooping a giant wad of noodles into a busted mouth when plonk goes Carol's hand, and he shoots her a Look, instantly picking up on that awkward tone -- something's amiss, but he's not sure what (dogs and street kids were both good at picking up on vibes, and Carol is smelling Uncomfortable and Seeking)]
[around too many noodles]
Fou're kiffin' 'ight?
[snap, teeth sever the long train, and plop the rest goes back into the box, splattering his shirt mildly with sauce]
Re: text
[that clumsy scarred hand knocks the chopsticks to the side (he was actually really good at them, before -- before his dominant hand became a little less useful)]
[the fork is already scooping a giant wad of noodles into a busted mouth when plonk goes Carol's hand, and he shoots her a Look, instantly picking up on that awkward tone -- something's amiss, but he's not sure what (dogs and street kids were both good at picking up on vibes, and Carol is smelling Uncomfortable and Seeking)]
[around too many noodles]
Fou're kiffin' 'ight?
[snap, teeth sever the long train, and plop the rest goes back into the box, splattering his shirt mildly with sauce]
Get offa me, m'tryin' ta eat.