"I suppose," he agrees somewhat dreamily, but he doesn't bother to argue when Bull is finally getting into the tub with him. With a qunari displacing it, the water rises quite a bit, which Dorian doesn't mind in the least. He relaxes against Bull's body, folding himself into his embrace and resting his head on his shoulder. While he'd rather feel Bull's skin against his without the rope in the way, it does serve a purpose. He slides his fingers beneath a section crossing Bull's chest. It's a secure feeling.

Dorian allows his eyes to slide closed, and then opens them a moment later. No horrible visions. Just the Bull, lips against his hair, as it should be. He is so very tired, physically and mentally, but he knows he won't be able to sleep properly even if he tried. The effects of the poison.

"Edible. I could have more, I think." But he'd like to get properly clean, too. 'Confined and interrogated' isn't a good look on anyone. Perhaps Bull would be so kind as to help him shave, too. He'd feel much more himself with this damned days-old stubble gone.