[And Eridan wasn't going to let her treat him like a moirail or even a friend. It hurt his chest in a way that reminded him too much of Feferi. And no one wanted a repeat of what happened there.]

Wwe'll fuckin' talk about wwhat I owwe you an' more importantly wwhat you owwe me, later.

[He only makes it a few steps away from the support of the door before he stumbles to his knees, chest heaving for breath. He tugs the scarf and cape from around his neck, gills twitching, as he slumps against the wheelbarrow.

This is completely undignified and he knows it and everything in him is screaming against asking for help, but--]

You had better not fuckin' hold this ovver my head, harpy. I can wwalk, I'm just indulgin' you.