For a moment, Lalo seems almost eager to lean into the hair-stroking, like a cat leaning into being petted, only to be abruptly pulled back into reality when she stops. Flustered and bewildered to suddenly find himself so quickly without the upper hand once more, Lalo marches off towards the sink obediently, almost like he's on autopilot. He stumbles a little, his vision slightly obscured, but manages to get to the sink and clumsily yank on the faucets to start splashing water on his face.

Dimly, he can't help but feel a bit indignant, deep inside. He was supposed to be the big man here, wasn't he?