[The texture of Hellboy's right hand is like a statue; It's dense and a little porous, like granite, its fine imperfections palpable to the touch. He's always mindful of how clumsy he can be with it, how alien it is, and something in his chest thrums when Kida doesn't seem to treat it differently than his left.
He doesn't answer her right away, tilting the ridge above an eye slightly to suggest a mirroring of her expression. Maybe she couldn't order him, but Hellboy always did his best to let his friends live their own lives. Liz was his best friend and she disappeared for months at a time. He couldn't put much of a stop to that, even if he wanted to.]
no subject
He doesn't answer her right away, tilting the ridge above an eye slightly to suggest a mirroring of her expression. Maybe she couldn't order him, but Hellboy always did his best to let his friends live their own lives. Liz was his best friend and she disappeared for months at a time. He couldn't put much of a stop to that, even if he wanted to.]
Nah.