[Koby regrets sending it immediately, the flood of self-loathing like a tidal wave, having him biting his nails ragged before the response even comes. He almost doesn't reply, almost leaves it for some later conversation, to be dismissed as sleep-messaging or the like.
But he's not sleeping. He hasn't been since jerking awake in sweat-tangled sheets, heart racing, breath seizing in his throat, brought back over and over and over and over to that hold, that ship, that voice in his ears. It seems impossible that after all that's happened, he'd still be dreaming about it, but he does. Every single time he goes to sleep. Every time except --]
no subject
But he's not sleeping. He hasn't been since jerking awake in sweat-tangled sheets, heart racing, breath seizing in his throat, brought back over and over and over and over to that hold, that ship, that voice in his ears. It seems impossible that after all that's happened, he'd still be dreaming about it, but he does. Every single time he goes to sleep. Every time except --]
Yes.
Can I come over?