It roiled beneath his skin. Something he was so used to being numb. Silenced in the harshest way he knew how. At worst as the years have crept by in a little whisper, invisible lips against his ear. Always soft. Cloyingly sweet. Trying to bubble to the surface of what he tried to call himself. Topmax only did so much to quite those ghosts. To quite him. To silence it all. He needed it, didn’t he? He did, but damn if there wasn’t something,<b>right</b>, about being<i>him</i>. Though, was it? Was he him? Or was he himself?<br/><br/><br/>That was a circling thought that was easy to get lost in, one that man he hardly knew didn’t need to see him spiral into.<br/><br/><br/>Was he even cut out for this? What was he doing?<br/><br/><br/><b>He was doing what he was supposed to.</b><br/><br/><br/>Was it right?<br/><br/><br/><b>What did it matter?</b><br/><br/><br/>Was he okay?<br/><br/><br/>Fuck, he might miss being numb. Numb was simple, numb was safe. And it sure as hell included a far less<i>this</i>A drink couldn’t have sounded any better right now. Though this, none of this is what he should be thinking about. Lost in twirling thoughts behind an empty smile, tinged by his swinging mood. His trigger tingling like a spoiled brat just coming down from a tantrum. That’s what he was going to call it. A tantrum at not getting his way. That’s what his father called it, what Joe called it. What<b>he</b>used to call it. It wasn’t an impulse. It wasn’t a craving. It wasn’t a burning need clawing at him.<br/><br/><br/><b>That’s what he needed to believe.</b><br/><br/><br/>Just a spoiled brat.<br/><br/><br/><b>A dirty liar!</b><br/><br/><br/>It’s why it was hard to swallow down the bubble of annoyance that wanted to resurface as his original plans were thrown three sheets to the wind. Letting his abused bottom lip pop out from where he had been worrying it between his teeth. What did he expect? He had hoped he was like a few other officers in the station. Eager to get off early and leave the work to those who are willing to trudge through the muck and grime. Especially with the promise of being able to swoop in once all the work is done to get their name attached to the results. Though here was someone that wanted to work. But he wanted to contribute, and that? That pushed the dark fog back to let the light flicker back into his smile. The casual warmth returning to those deep hazels, even if only a little. He slowly pulled himself off his mental edge as he quirked a brow. His heckles still higher than he was comfortable with as he slowly lowered the phone, he props it against his hip. “Depends on the day.” That was one hell of a wording.<br/><br/><br/>“Though I’ve never been one to turn down a free drink.” He chuckled, glancing down at the burner as it vibrated in his hand. Shit fine, he can work this. Nosey or not he was never one to turn down someone willing to work. And it would be a lie to say a drink didn’t sound more than a little tempting. Worst case scenario, he’d leave early, claiming a family emergency. He wondered if he would believe him if he said his partier little sister decided to make a curfew break and he needed to go pick her up? Make it personal and most stayed out of it. Especially the new intruders that stumbled their way into another stranger’s life. Why would he want to be invested in his life anyhow?<br/><br/><br/><b>Stop worrying!</b><br/><br/><br/>God did he need a smoke and a drink.<br/><br/><br/>“Alright, why not? It might help to get into his mindset anyhow.” He muttered, biting at the corner of his lip for a second before letting it go again. “The car is parked out front. You want me to drive or you?” He asked, glancing once more at his face before shooting one last look down at the phone typing a quick message back before turning it off. Yeah, Mic wasn’t going to appreciate that, but he’ll take those lumps when they came? But now, well he wanted to see what this man will do. Andreas eyes were sharper then he had expected. Observant. Aware and that was sorely lacking in this station. He might have to watch him, but part of him enjoyed it. Maybe he was more than a pretty face? Or just trouble.<br/><br/><br/><i>Was it wrong to hope for a little of both?</i>