That's it. He's done. How's he supposed to have any hope of walking away from this when he can feel the desperation in Gamzee - in that clench of fabric in his fist and the sound of his voice? What makes it seem a little more okay is that Dave doesn't think it's desperation for...well, for that - at least, not yet. He gets the feeling those kisses have been about something else entirely. Contact, maybe, which makes Dave wonder just how long it's been since Gamzee's touched anything that hasn't been inanimate and covered in blood.

"Shit," he says softly, shaking his head, and then - because he's been doing far too much touchy-feely talking for his own liking tonight, Striders are men of action or some shit like that - he lets his head drop forward until he's resting his forehead against Gamzee's and sighs.

"Let's just...see if we can't get you out of here. Find you some real food to eat."