Re: In-person: Misha B/Damian W
[Damian frowned a little, confused by the sudden surge of panic he was witnessing, until, obviously, Misha spoke. Oh. The heroin. No. Damian had not ever tried it. He knew to steer clear of it. But, it was not as if he was thinking particularly clearly earlier. If anything, it would have been smarter to simply take the Xanax with him, but he had intended to make some (mysterious) point by flushing it down the kitchen sink.—He considered, briefly, resisting the angel's pleading. He was, after all, still an addict and just having something, should he need it, made him feel calmer... but, he was not so cruel.] Okay, [he said, trying to appear calm, though he was not. He lifted his ass enough to fetch the baggie from his back pocket and he passed it over to Misha without looking the boy in the eye.
He shook his head, staring at the heroin until it was gone from his sight.] No. I do not—I—[He could not say he did not want or need anything, but he did not. Or he wanted to not. He ended up sounding like a skipping record as he then just said,] No. I am sorry. I am sorry. No.