Basil has smoked more today than they have in a long time. Itās a little ridiculous, actually, just how muchĀ theyāve smoked, and thinking back on it, borderline comical. They havenāt been finding a lot of things humorous, what with the impending doom of the night fast approaching, but that isnāt to say that itās all been totallyĀ awful. Right now, for instance ā well, this is pretty okay. They inhale, the scent of their own clothing mixing with the underlying AriĀ that seems to be slowly permeating everything around them, and then theyāre turning their head so itās their cheek pressed against his shoulder rather than their entire face. Probably easier to talk that way, if talking can be considering easyĀ under any circumstances.Ā āNah, Iāll probably just die.ā They deadpan, the sarcasm obvious in its absence; it isnāt as if heās going to have trouble finding it.Ā āOr get thrown in the clink when they discover the dispensary Iām running out of my bag. Whichever.ā They lift their shoulders in a shrug, glad for the fact their expression is masked by their position, and for the pressure of their friendās head resting against their own. Itās nice, and itās calming, and theyāre relaxing more and more by the second. Theyād probably make it in prison, is the thing. They lived a lot longer with far more rules.
He knows they arenāt being genuine which is why heās able to resist rolling his eyes dramatically at their hyperbolic statements.Ā āIād probably miss you,ā he shrugs casually,Ā āand your eulogy would be fire. Hope you wouldnāt mind that Iād deliver it high out of my fucking mind.ā He doubts they would, even in hypothetical. Ariās never written a eulogy before (and he hopes he never has to) but he imagines Basilās would be lit if he did write it, intoxicants or not. Ā āOr, if the alternative proves true, Iāll visit you in jail. We both know I canāt afford bail though so Iām afraid youāre stuck in the slammer until further notice. Thatās cool though; Iāve always wanted to know a suspected felon.ā He nods sagely, all while patiently waiting for them to hand the bowl back again. Ari nuzzles, a fact heād deny if asked about it directly. Heās not the type one assumes to be cuddly but so many young, tactile little siblings has for a soft man made. In fact, Ariās favorite place to be is at the center of his king sized bed, smaller bodies packed around his in a Winters clan cuddle puddle from which there is no surfacing until everyoneās hand their fill. Basil gets a touch of that now (literally), just enough to be a reassuring presence at their side and there in case they want more.Ā āDo you think theyād take me in as an accomplice?ā he hums, taking back his lighter and flicking it on and off aimlessly.Ā āI mean, itās partially my pocket serving as transportation.ā Basilās wearing his hoodie, right? He canāt be bothered to second guess.
