[ oh that's entirely - well, it's his fault for being that close in the first place, but his breath stalls, stutters like an engine, his heart feels like it's in his ears, he's certain hurricane can hear it from this distance, this proximity, and he's stiff enough that he doesn't pull away from him even when the other's got his phone out - is this a dream? it must be a dream, right, for him to be this close, he feels like something had happened before so -

oh - his scent is so much closer, now. lucifel's own scent is that of lilies, close enough that the sweetness would cling to one's senses but light enough in strength that the sweetness is like a distant memory, something on the tip of one's tongue - close, yet so far away - and while he can't smell himself he wonders abruptly if he smells fishy, and he wonders if it matters, and he's finally easing himself down onto his lap again properly but he hasn't figured out whether he should pick his head up or not; ultimately, his ear ends up pressed to hurricane's collarbone and he mumbles ]

A -

Alright. Uhm -

. . . Is it . . . is it cheating, to have the light on in here? With your phone - it's really dark, right? It isn't as though it really bothers me but it's - well -

A little light would be fine, right . . . ?