Welcome to Gaia! ::

For one very terrible moment, Davor was suddenly terrified that he'd done something very, very wrong. He felt his blood run cold, instinctively glancing at his arm because what else had ever elicited such strong reactions? But nothing was wrong, or off, the prosthesis perfectly hidden in his jacket and looking as natural as if he'd had a real limb there. Still, he'd let slip a look of hurt surprise-terror at Misha's laughter, before forcing himself to bury it, putting back on the cool composure he'd always held.

...Not for very long, however. Briiva's answer had him turning immediately red (or at least, redder than any amount of alcohol could accomplish), flushed to the very tips of his ears as his eyes widened at the implication of her comment. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again, teeth gritted, turning his head to look at anywhere but her or Misha. It felt very much like the two woman had conspired to humiliate him while he was away, a surge of anger blooming in his chest.

He set those feelings aside. Briiva was hurt, even if she wasn't exactly acting like it anymore. She was smiling in a way that seemed sincere, smiling at him, but Davor couldn't help but wonder anyway if she was mocking him. Wordlessly, he set the vodka down on a dresser before approaching Briiva to help her, taking great care to be gentle with her injured side as he lifted her back into bed. The bed he was not getting into, thank you very much.

Briiva's cheerful expression dropped as she saw Davor's reaction upon entering her room again, however brief. She was happy to see his face light up like the Christmas tree at her suggestion, but the further stoicism displayed by her roommate gave her pause. She saw his jaw clench and visibly flinched, assuming that she had pushed her grump-buddies humor a little too far.

Briiva wasn't sure the best way to handle the situation, she only knew that Davor had already been a little drunk when they had first come up, and was (rightfully so) a little upset with their lack of concern for each others safety, so jokingly flirting probably hadn't been one of her best ideas ever, at least with the current situation. She allowed herself to be helped into bed, her own cheeks flushing with how careful he was being getting her there.

Briiva murmured her thanks to Misha as her head was being propped up, her eyes scanning Davor's face as she tried to gauge what was going through his head while also fighting the urge to push herself up towards him. Instead she pushed her own drunken emotions down and turned away before she did anything stupid, her hand reaching out and grabbing at the breast of Davor's coat. Her fist clenched into the rough, worn fabric before using it to pull him to her, throwing her arms around him.

"I'm sorry that you got dragged into taking care of my dumb-a** self, Davor." Briiva's breath caught for a moment before continuing. "I didn't mean to make light of anything or you or.." Briiva had to stop again, give herself time to collect her thoughts. "I like you, and I say some a lot of dumb things when I'm drunk to people I like that I think are funny, when they aren't."

Briiva really wished that she was less honest when she was drunk sometimes.

Misha managed to bite back the immediate urge to giggle as Briiva attempted to perform what appeared to be a combination hug and wrestling move on Davor. The poor man looked so uncomfortable! When he responded directly, though, to Briiva's blast of apology-c**-declaration with a mumbled affirmative and attempted to pat the young woman's back, Misha felt the urge to laugh melt into a warm smile as her opinion of him eased. That was the smile Davor saw when he looked up to Misha for help.

It widened further and, instead of pouring, she moved to sit beside him on the bed. Reaching over, she smoothed Briiva's hair back from her face. "Hush, sweetie," she whispered. "I'm pretty sure Davor means it when he says he likes you. How could he not?"