Haine had some unnatural fixation on bones. Perhaps not unnatural, considering what he was, but ever since he felt Lily's bones break under his fingers, saw her insides slither out of her torn torso, it was just something he couldn't get out of his head. Maybe it was the dog inside that remembered it, and not Haine. He liked to think there was a separation between the two. He knew that was probably wishful thinking.
And maybe that was why he spent as much time with Badou as he did, even if he was disgusting and had questionable standards of hygiene, shared far too much about the state of his bowels and generally appeared to have a shaky grasp on reality, he was full of wishful thinking. Most of it being along the lines of; "Hell no that's not infected" or "Today's a good day, I'm not going to get shot at" but every little bit counted.
Admittedly, Haine didn't have many social skills to speak of, but it was alright, considering that Badou had a sort of attitude that took a great deal to shake. So when Haine would comment on how he liked Badou's empty eye socket, Badou only needed a moment to recover. Just a shrug and a "Gee thanks, wanna be my boyfriend now? Faggot.".
Haine didn't really have the same luxury, so when he enters Badou's apartment and he's shirtless on his back on a bare mattress in the middle of the floor with a bag of chips and a can of bright orange cheese food product trying to stick chips to the ceiling with sheer force of will (and cheese), Haine needs a moment to recover.
He does notice, notices like the disgusting monster he is, is Badou's skeleton. Every rib, every tendon is perfectly outlined under graying mottled skin. It's a wonder his skin isn't transparent, he's so pale grey, the same color s the smoke curling from the ash tray on the floor, Badou's hair dangerously close to the burning end of his most recent sacrifice to the nicotine gods.
"You going to stand there like an asshole or are you going to help me?" Badou says, his words slightly mumbled as he's trying to keep a fresh cigarette in his mouth, his head hanging almost upside down off the mattress he's too lanky to properly lay on. Help him do what remained to be seen.
He sits on the floor next to the mattress, what's he going to do? Actually ask Badou what the fuck he's doing? That'd require proper communication and the both of them were far too stupid and immature to do something like that.
"I figure this shit's cheaper than paint." Badou says, throwing a chip skyward, however form his backwards position the chip simply arcs downward and slides down the wall, leaving a orange boogery trail down the chipping green paint. Clearly, this was not Badou's first miss, as there are orange tracks spider webbing across his wall.
He's not sure if Badou's serious. Granted, he never takes Badou seriously but sometimes he says shit that's just so outrageous that he's not sure if Badou's just being his usual cynical asshole self or he's just totally lost it for real this time.
"Yeah. I guess it is."