Voicemail (IC Contact Post) OLD - at capcha

[abrightboy]

 This is Bright. Leave a message.

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[abrightboy]

“Oh, you mean here. Sorry, I thought you meant where you’re from. So… you don’t have these sleep issues at home?” he surmises.

[ployboy]

The jerk did that on purpose.

Tim frowns.

"I do," he admits like he's fighting against keeping his mouth clamped shut. If just because Not-A-Cop will see past his bullshit anyway. "There's always work to do. It's not a big mystery. Or problem. I appreciate the concern, though."

Spoilers, he does not.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm huffs a light laugh. “Do you appreciate it or is that the nice way of saying you wish I would take it and shove it up my ass?”

[ployboy]

"You said it, not me," he mutters. But the olive branch is recognized and Tim can find it in him to smirk, if only for a second before his expression smooths back into nothingness.

He's made mistakes here. Noted. The worst part being that he always knew how to avoid them but, well, it's... nice. That Malcolm's concerned.

Tim's hand grips the handle of his mug, "I think the tea did help."

It's time for a retreat.

Tim makes to stand. "Thanks," he tries again. Awkwardly, boyishly. Genuinely. Go out on a high note and hide your head in the sand elsewhere. "I'll be in my room."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm nods.

“I’m usually here at this time of night,” he points out. “If you ever want to talk some more.”