What does it say about Jeff that all of this is totally working for him? Yeah, maybe he shouldn't be so quick to let a stranger-- a purple, fuzzy, mysterious muppet of a stranger-- know that he's looking to lose himself, that he's so miserable that he just wants to forget it all. That'd probably be the smart, responsible thing to do. He ought to look after himself, now that he's got a second chance at life.

Instead, he presses his wrist against Tarantulas's nail, chasing the implicit danger being teased to him. Fuck wisdom.

"I don't know. Would that be so bad?" He leans in, gaze flickering between the array of eyes and that leering, dangerous smile. Judging by the look on Jeff's face, none of it's a turn off. "Someone wanting you so much they'd eat you up? Sounds like a dream."

Not that he means it literally. Vore isn't exactly Jeff's thing. Hell, he wouldn't even know what that word means. But the idea of being consumed wholly, spiritually, adoringly, to be so desired he'd be destroyed, to find oblivion in another's embrace, now that is something he's craved for months.

"You're not worried, are you?" He bats his lashes, affecting a wide-eyed, totally innocent look. There's still a playful air about it, no real attempt to be convincing in his innocence. "Like... That I might be crazy or something?"