he's overstimulated, his breathing heavier with each exhale. "shit.." he flinches. he's weak.

Yui feels a shiver run through her— even though he is holding her closely.

he's challenging her. her lips press taut.

The tentative puerile of a child besets the vitriolic berating that he's being given, it's noise in his ears, a pontificate droning that he doesn't recognize over his own hiccuped sobs of 'stop it, I'm f-fine, just fine', 'don't tell mom', and 'you're mad, aren't you'

murphy snorts, his composure requited.

"Fuck that," downturned lips, speech impeded - underlain with a tired growl. Conversation begets patience that the former detective didn't think he had anymore. But being out of bullets meant that he had to talk his way out of a precarious situation. Too bad he had never been much of a negotiator.

"I thought you didn't drink," said guardian says huskily into his ear. simplicity of the statement somehow made Tsuna even more so remorseful and so he cringes in on himself in response.

precipitous curiosity sears his mouth, an overeager query hot on his breath and on the tip of his tongue. with much difficulty, he manages to get it out, though mutilated.