At the very least, he understands the need to be methodical with one's appearance. Despite being an absolute trash fire of a human being right now, he knows come tomorrow, he could lace himself back up nice and pretty and none would be the wiser. Aside from the obvious, anyway.

But so far, they've rarely used anything about each other against the other. There's always been that fear that they will, but it never comes. The other shoe continues to hover precariously over them.

"I think so..." At least, he hopes so. He hears the soft thud of the boots. Once those are on, laced up, Gabe will leave and tomorrow will be a completely different day. All of this could leave with Gabe and once all of these mysterious chemicals are completely flushed out of him, maybe even Henry won't remember the finer details.

That ever-represent selfishness takes over and he shifts to move forward, reaching up to gently touch the back of Gabe's flipped shirt collar. He attempts to fold it down gently with both hands, wondering if this is yet another line he's crossing.