saltburnt inbox | @murphy

[wrackful]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

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murphy

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[kobes]

NO. im LOST.

[there's a bewildered, wildly tipsy nudge of that unseen haki, confused and stumbling at the edge of murphy's mind.]

punch was
stuff in it I think???

[wrackful]

[Well, that's immediately chased any lingering sleepiness away. Replaced by concern, he grabs the sense of Koby against his mind before it can stumble out of reach. Starts pulling it in like a rope, blearily climbing out of bed, heading for the door.]

This help?

[Echoed in his mental voice - enough sleepiness remaining, it seems, for him to forget he can stop texting when Koby's in his head.]

[kobes]

yeah! 😄

[its much better, though koby remains stumbling, wobbling through the halls in his shiny shoes, stumbling as he goes, gleefully tugged along by that unseen rope.

he's careening around the corner by the time murphy makes the door, pausing out of breath and indeed, very sparkly. he beams tipsy at murphy, face flushed, eyes hazy.]

Hiiii.

[wrackful]

[In sweats and one of Danny's old T-shirts, hair a sleep-mussed wild, Murphy suddenly feels underdressed.]

Okay, you weren't kidding about the sparkly. Wow. [It's eye-catching, in more ways than one. But Koby clearly wasn't kidding about there being stuff in the punch, either, so Murphy makes a concerted effort to drag his eyes up. Keep them there.] Hey.

[kobes]

[murphy looks comfy, koby decides, swaying to one side until his hip, his shoulder bumps into the wall. that's nice, it helps him stand up fully, getting a pleased, appreciative, tipsy taptap of a couple sparkly-painted fingernails.]

Hey. [echoed, huffing out another laugh, still drumming his fingers against the wall. koby's glasses are off, folded in the pocket of his jacket, and he keeps reaching up instinctively to push them into place, bumping himself in the nose instead.]

Oh -- did I wake you up? [suddenly concerned, wobbling a few steps closer, reaching up to pat at murphy's sleep-mussed hair. he's only got two or three inches on koby, something rare in saltburnt, making it easy to fingercomb the loose strands into place.] You look sleepy.

[wrackful]

[It's cute, Murphy thinks, watching Koby navigate the hall. It's a word that's easy to put to Koby at pretty much any time anyway, but now, especially. He looks light, happy, a sparkling to him that isn't just the outfit or the alcohol. Murphy wishes he looked like this more often.]

Mm, yeah. [Easy affirmative, evidence of sleepiness obvious in how his eyelids droop a little heavy under the touch to his hair, how he has a hand light on Koby's hip without thinking about it. A silent stay here, keep doing that.

The corner of his mouth tugs, half a smile.] But you look hot, so it was worth it.

[kobes]

[it’s sad, maybe, that it’s taken alcohol to do it, but – better that than slogging through the malaise of grief and fear that january’s been thus far. better to remember that there’s something beyond hurting all the time. nimbly, koby stays up on his toes, close enough that it’s easy to see the glitter’s been carefully applied over the scars on his chest, almost lovingly, if horrifically messy.]

You need to sleep, sleep’s important for you. [the fussiness amplified, fingercombing through the hair that falls into murphy’s heavy-lidded face, close enough that the scent of sugary booze that clings to koby like perfume is evident. one hand, surprisingly callused, drops to murphy’s cheek, cradles there for a moment as koby blinks slowly.

then, gloss-smeared mouth tilting to a grin:] Youuuu think I look hot? Really? [bouncing a bit on his toes.] Right now?