[He could be reasonable and shift forward, letting Nanu not have to squeeze himself through the door to get to him, or he could continue to be a miserable lump barring his door. Guzma ever so maturely picks the latter. Once Nanu's free, though, and in front of him, Guzma doesn't really look at him anymore. Stuffing his hands into his jacket's pockets, he leaves the hood up, as if it's hiding him with some weird ostrich-logic.]
Nothin' good.
[His voice sounds rough and shitty, like he's giving attitude that Nanu doesn't deserve. He knows he doesn't deserve it, hell he came here for help, but he's also at a loss as to how he can even ask, let alone say, what's wrong. He feels like a goddamn fool, and he's certainly acting the part.]
no subject
Nothin' good.
[His voice sounds rough and shitty, like he's giving attitude that Nanu doesn't deserve. He knows he doesn't deserve it, hell he came here for help, but he's also at a loss as to how he can even ask, let alone say, what's wrong. He feels like a goddamn fool, and he's certainly acting the part.]
Came here to talk.
[As if that wasn't obvious.]