He braced himself for the worst rejection that could be hurled at him. Knowing Izaya, he wouldn't let this one slip. He'd probably never hear the end of it. Damn this curse. Damn it to the Netherworld and back! Ah, but it wouldn't be helped anymore. It was already out there. The prince fliched slightly, waiting for the insults, the jabs, anything... but it never came. In its place were those words and the hand on his head. It left Laharl feeling the tiniest bit confused, slightly wondering if he'd touched a sort of nerve in the human.

Before he could say anything else, he was pulled over close. Admittedly, it did seem a little bit awkward just standing there but he didn't know what else to do but reach out and lightly clutch at Izaya's shoulder as he spoke. Part of him just wanted to stay like that for a while despite the raging protests in his mind that this was wrong, this would end up so terribly wrong but another part seemed to long for it. It called forth memories he'd shoved away at the back of his mind, of his father pulling him over for a hug and him pulling away in protest. It brought back thoughts of his mother, the only one he'd ever allow a hug from. And now suddenly, Izaya. It only left him just the smallest bit confused. Did he really like the human in that matter? For one, were demons even capable of love? Was Flonne on to something?

Strangely, it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would. No tears came to him. He wasn't the sort to cry anyway but there was still that undeniable pang in his chest. It stung just a bit more, just the teeniest bit from that small kiss but enough to pull him back from his musings. "N... no problem." Laharl finally spoke up, straightening up and folding his arms back across his chest. Back to normal, no questions asked. However, he picked up the roll of gauze and thrust it out at the informant.

"Here. Go wrap yourself up and don't get so beat up next time!" he huffed, hiding his concern in his usual sudden outbursts.