When he heard the door open, Tavros turned his wheelchair around to face the door. He'd decided to work on some of his homework, but it had been hard to focus on it. Mainly, he'd just been staring at the paper with the quill dripping onto the page. He didn't immediately say anything, and instead he took the paper and quill and stuck it back in his bag. Then, he looked up at Karkat. "Oh, you're wet..." he murmured, and in a way he felt bad for making Karkat come in the rain.

And now that he was speaking to him, for the first time in months, it... it was hard. He didn't know what to say, and at the same time he was overwhelmed with emotion. He missed Karkat. He bit his lip and looked away, forcing back the tears that threatened to come. He had to tell himself there was no reason to cry- he was being silly. Very silly. Just because he missed Karkat didn't mean he had to cry- he was standing right there, after all.

Swallowing, he looked back at Karkat. "Um... I could, dry you off with a spell, maybe...?" His voice was hesitant and unsure. He didn't know how to touch on the subject of what he really wanted to talk about, so instead he was going to focus on something else entirely. Even if he wasn't the best at magic. Even if he was so damn nervous that he would probably screw up even the most simple of spells. But he kept telling himself that he had no reason to be nervous. He was just... being pessimistic. Very pessimistic.