[ @dippedindes Continued from here! ]
Joseph didn’t make a habit of calling people in the middle of the night, unless it was an absolute emergency. But tonight, after a particularly nasty fight with Mary, he’d had a drink too many and he’d let his mind wander into territory that he shouldn’t have. He was lonely, and he couldn’t shake the memories of times he’d spent with Des, everything from that first night that he’d saved him, right up to the rainy afternoon spent in Des’ garage. It would hurt to call, would it? He’d always struck Joseph as the type who was up late anyway.
So he’d grabbed his phone, despite his better judgment, not even sure exactly what he was hoping for, just knowing that he needed the company right about now, when everything else felt sort of like it was falling apart right under his feet.
“Desmond, hey,” he said, somehow managing to keep his tone light and friendly, though his words were a little slurred thanks to - three? four? A few drinks. “Sorry for calling so late. I was just...thinking about you. I couldn’t help myself.”
