"Ich auch, Tehp." Sitting next to him.

His head on the table too.

Apparently Keith is heading out.

He would stop him and ask him why, maybe even ask to go with. But that feels like he would be overstepping a boundary.

- much, he eventually closed his eyes and groaned, "Ouh, boy. That was awkward. Sorry."

Very, awkward. But maybe more awkward for Bernie than it was to Roman.

"Oh–" Embarrassing, Bernie. "Maybe I just don't remember that. Apologies.

But ah– yeah, that is honorable. I suppose I was also just seeing if you did it to protect others. But you seem like a good man, so I imagine that might have also been a reason why you joined it."

Rambling a bit too -

[Reposting again! Like for an interaction with your ol' heroin fiend pretty boy!

[If I had no pride I would go to Twitter. there's like. Nothing happening here

"Hungry..." Empty pockets– literally. Finding something to eat tonight is probably going to involve stealing from a gas station. Again.

"I suppose I am feeling better.

Thanks for uh. Nevermind." Maybe its best not to be passive aggressive, he figures.

He's not feeling better. But his mind isn't on his woes. He feels like he's being watched, every security camera he asks by seems to flicker towards him.

Is... Are they coming back?

🥹, Bernard says. Somehow.

It's not every day he gets hugged. Hell, barely every 4 weeks he gets hugged. So Keith is met with an awkward embrace, teetering on too loose and too tight.

"Um................

...........thanks."

"Please?"

"Can I have a hug-

If. Uhm. If that is okay. No pressure. I would just- uh, like. A hug."

Everything feels so dull, even the soreness in his back is just background static.

He's tired...

- times. But it doesn't make him feel any less lonely.

It doesn't make him want to down a bottle of pills, chug cheep beer, with a wire wrapped around his arm and a needle hanging loosely from the fragile skin. It would hurt. It would hurt bad. But for a bit.

Fuck. That sounds fantastic.

- is too hurt to do that. Lest he doses himself up on drugs, teetering on an overdose. That's when he can feel numb, physically and in his cruel, cruel mind. Why can't he forget? Is it pride? Ironic, considering his position.

Or was it just, tiredness? He's come this far. It can be said a million -

It's one of those days. Everything's boiled over and it's harder to pretend that everything is fine.

What makes it worse is that he feels ashamed to be 'weak' or 'broken'. Who would want that? Damaged goods, that's all he seems to be. People liked him better when he was social and carefree. He -

"Shit- what's so funny?" Bernard sneered, crossing his arms in a cliche pouting manner, all in good fun nonetheless.

He should've done something like this to Keith sooner– to preemptively get back at him for this.

"Ugh. Hm.

One more clue? Then it's your turn." He smiles confidently.

[Reposting again! Like for an interaction with your ol' heroin fiend pretty boy!

"She looks like a lion.

..But. Um. Not."

Bernard did NOT say hi.

"..M-mouth? Full mouth- Mouth full! Talking with... Mouth full?"

This fucking idiot. He looks so dedicated to solving the mystery... Even doing the same motion with his own hand, eyebrow raising his eyebrow and squinting as he rests three fingers in his mouth.

"Hmm... Dentist..?" Sheepish smirk.

"Ugh. Jesus-... Fuck. Shit."

Horrible dream. The hammer- it felt so real. In his hand. Colliding against a force coming at him. How many times does he have to...

"..God."

- maybe he was a hunk. But anyways, Bernard just wanted to make sure this guy wasn't super closed-minded. It wasn't that he thought all military personnel were the cliche supremacist, it's just that they often got a bad rep for being that way. Not that it really mattered, in the apocalypse, though.

- part in those kind of things. Serving a bigger purpose, I guess- with the military or community, I mean.

Did you join the military for the planes or to protect others and whatnot?" It's a not very subtle way to clarify that Roman wasn't a bloodthirsty all-American military hunk. Well, he -

"Never came to war, you mean? That is something to be thankful for." Bernard humored lightly, not wanting to entirely poke fun at Roman's medals and whatnot. It was an honorable legacy, even if Bernard wasn't too into aviation, he could respect Roman's dedication to it all.

"I never really took -

"Punch me as hard as you can– I dare you."

Bernard engages his core, gesturing for [READER] to punch him there. He seems so sure of himself!

- uh. Mean no? Or is it that peace symbol?" He's referencing the shaka hand gesture.

Sitting on the ground with Keith, playing this little game, is kinda fun even if they only just started. He never really has moments to sit around and relax. This is nice.

Oh, he knows. Well. No he doesn't. Because he can't see the sign, but he will!

He looks at the hand gesture... Staring at it for a bit before trying to replicate it. His hands, dabbled with scars mainly centering around the knuckles, are having trouble twisting into such a formation.

"Does this -

"It has been a while since anyone has played with my butt.

I mean... I'm not complaining about it. But. It just feels lonely. I mean– I feel lonely. Not...

Whatever."

"Okay. And here is yours."

Bernard puts a sign on Keith, it says cat. This was supposed to be an innocent game where they guess what word they've put on each other. But oh no. Keith decided to be a scoundrel.

"Okay. I'll go first.

Am I... An animal?" Poor Bernie. No idea what's in store.

- with his coat sleeve.

"It seems out of character for you to be complimenting me. Or, being nice at all.

I um. Appreciate it. Though. I think." Still suspicious though.