Falls asleep against his shoulder
He’d not the heart to disturb. After all, propped against Markus’ shoulder, it’d be criminal to stir him from what dreams had whisked him deep. It was not yet midnight, the android observed, dusk’s receding hues still lamely tingeing the skies in pink. Far suns behind the clouds dusted his lashes. Lúcio, as it was, slept kissed by the wash of starlight. Markus grinned. He dimmed the holopad he held to low, and only scantly did its bluish glow steep the pair sat dallying. Their perch by Jericho’s clammy edge was brilliant! Before them, Detroit roared alive as the street cars dotted gold. It was like a painting, wasn’t it?, this dazzling scene?
"Should be seeing this right now,“ he hummed despite himself. To this dreamer. This visionary. “Got a feeling you’d have appreciated it.”
