Dodger hesitates before sitting up, and then shifting to climb into Ivar's lap. He's careful not to put too much weight on his legs, leaning his forehead against Ivar's and pausing for a deep breath.

"Don't think you could change if you tried." He offers a smirk without much feeling behind it, an empty little huff of laughter. "I don't know what's gonna make me happy. I don't even know who makes me happy. People like you and... like Squalo, you make me feel like shit and like I'm home all at the same time. And people like... my friend I lost, make me feel... happy, and like I'm lost in a different country."

Any trace of humor slips off his face, and his shoulders slump.

"Why can't I just be happy being a piece of shit?"