When Zico raised his hand towards him he flinched back a bit, thinking the other was surely going to smack him across the face for his little trick. Instead, he was completely baffled when his hand gently ran through his hair, ruffling it up a bit. Heat filled his face as he looked awkwardly up at the demon with a confused expression. It was a bit calming, but it might have worked better if the two didn't seem to dislike each other.<br/><br/>Then when he pulled his hand away he was about to ask what the ruffle was for, but the subject changed to food. "Uhm--" He started, but he was already walking away. With a quiet sigh he followed without protest, he was more than a little hungry. Nothing but hospital food really made you hate food.<br/><br/>"I didn't know you ate normal food," Weren't demons suppose to eat fear, souls, and blood? Too much time online... "I don't care what you cook, as long as it's better than the damn hospital food they gave me." He muttered. Half the time he couldn't even eat because he was screaming as the skin was forcefully peeled off, or bandages changed, or he had to take half a dozen pills. He had lost weight and went into a stage of depression where he refused the food and they had to put a feeding tube instead.<br/><br/>It wasn't a good time. "What are you going to make anyways," He said to distract himself from his lovely hospital experience. He went over to a small kitchen table and took a seat on its edge instead of the chair. His hand very carefully began to massage the tender skin that began cramping up.