[The few moments of silence are actually bliss for Beat. He can recline into the pillows, inhale that smoke that burns and makes him want to cough, and wait for it to kick in. No need to think about dying or Rhyme. No need to think at all.

Exhaling slowly, Beat closes his eyes, waiting for that comfortable blanket.]

Which means you prolly ain't eaten shit all. Fuck, course you ain't. I'll haul somethin' back later an' letchu chase it 'round.

[Inhale and hold, exhale and crack his eyes open to watch the smoke filter up towards the ceiling, fading into grey and then gone before it reaches it. It makes him look at his own hand, recalling a time he was fading too. At least that didn't hurt.

Pausing before he lifts the hose to his mouth again, he slits his eyes towards Gamzee.] You want one wid big tits or feelin' up fer somethin' diff?