Robs took off his glasses and rest them on his chest, even shirtless, the night was balmy. He wanted a shower. A cold one. How strange, he thought, because the hot ones aren't going to--

Inner monologue interrupted, someone was setting off fireworks a few doors down. I was having a conversation with myself, annoyed, could you not interrupt? Blurry sparks and the illumination lit up his vision, the fireworks were pretty, if nothing else. Turning his head, he looks at Travis' back.

"D'you think it.." he stumbles over his own words, pausing to collect them and start again, "Do you think if we had said something, would it matter?" The two of them were sat on the edge of a pier, on a river, the wind slapping the water around underneath them - if you could hear it over the fireworks.

"Who would we tell? If we had said four days. Four days." Robs holds up a hand towards the blurry sky, four fingers extended, then brings them back down in front of his face. I should cut my fingerna-- his eyes roll as he once again remembers the situation, dropping his hands on either side of him. The bangs, the booms of the fireworks start to escalate towards the approaching darkness.

"Do you think anyone would have believed us? If we said that. I'm not sure if I would have even believed me." Pulling his glasses back on, he sits up and leans back on his arms, looking at both coasts of the river celebrating the Fourth in all its glory. How they got such powerful fireworks in a state where they were illegal, well.. a man can drive to South Carolina if he wants.

Robs fishes out a cigarette from the Pall Mall box, disgusted with himself about it. He had quit years ago, but times being what they were.. a craving is a craving. The lighter flicked twice in the wind until it catches, lighting the cigarette. "Christ these are disgusting. I mean, you don't even smoke and you think they're disgusting." He said over his shoulder to Travis. Why his companion wasn't facing and looking at the fireworks, Robs had no clue, but that wasn't really the first quirk of Travis' that had come up.

Travis "didn't hear too good" - Travis was deaf, basically, but hadn't always been that way. Which was nice, in a companion, when you can shout and seethe and bitch at someone when they're not looking, as loud as you want, and then just smile and shake your head, Robs thought. But it ran deeper than that. A lot deeper. Ever since finding out what they both knew.. a lot deeper than they realized.

Pinky ring middle index, pinky ring middle index, Robs lay back down. drumming his fingertips on the pier's wood next to him, thinking.

"The end. What the fuck does that mean? What is after this?" Robs pulled on the cigarette and pursed his lips, blowing smoke out in a thin line. His neurotic thoughts continued, "Or is that not a question I should ask, if there's something after this? Oh, OH." He grinned up at the sky. "What if by asking if there is something after, you end up not being able to be a part of the afte--"

A large hand loomed and covered his mouth, pausing Robs mid-sentence, mid-thought. And with it came Travis' head in view, not really looking at the river, not really looking at the fireworks, just down at his companion. Robs cheekily raising one brow up at Travis.

And then his mouth opened.

And every mortar, every sparkler, every fire burning in celebration of that patriotic day paused. Mid-burn, mid-explosion, mid.. moving.

Because he spoke. 

Because he said:

"Stop."