[That is, simultaneously, the most relieving, wonderful, terrible and painful thing to hear for him. That is probably why he can't quite respond beyond taking the stick and bringing it to his lips.
Damned lighters. So hard to use when you're totally fucked up.
One drag in, and he's leaning back, setting his head against the wall. Two drags, and he's shutting his eyes. Three, and he's staring past Cisco and looking significantly better. Not good: not yet. Just better.
no subject
Damned lighters. So hard to use when you're totally fucked up.
One drag in, and he's leaning back, setting his head against the wall. Two drags, and he's shutting his eyes. Three, and he's staring past Cisco and looking significantly better. Not good: not yet. Just better.
After the fourth:]
Do you really think we could...?
[He can't even say it.]