[The fractured fear and shards of dark memory slow, dip off. Murphy doesn't feel relieved for it until Bellamy comes back, conscious contact, aware. It eases like a tightness releasing, and he draws back from how closely he'd pushed through the connection. His head hurts; twin, pulsing knots of pain at his temples, a woozy feeling at the back of his skull that sends out curls of nausea when he moves. He can ignore it. He's had worse.
Bellamy's all waves of regret and embarrassment, and Murphy exhales, heavy, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. None of them could really help what leaked out of their heads, let alone if they were sick and asleep. He steadies the line between them like wrapping cord around his fist, twice over, anchored.]
(So, Mount Weather seriously sucked, huh? Makes me feel pretty glad I didn't stick around.)
[Dry, irreverent, and despite the question itself, not really an invitation to talk about the memories or what had just happened. More of an invitation to wave it off, instead. Move on.]
no subject
Bellamy's all waves of regret and embarrassment, and Murphy exhales, heavy, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. None of them could really help what leaked out of their heads, let alone if they were sick and asleep. He steadies the line between them like wrapping cord around his fist, twice over, anchored.]
( So, Mount Weather seriously sucked, huh? Makes me feel pretty glad I didn't stick around. )
[Dry, irreverent, and despite the question itself, not really an invitation to talk about the memories or what had just happened. More of an invitation to wave it off, instead. Move on.]