R remembers that. He's surprised to realize he does, that it's probably weeks later since that afternoon in the 747 with Julie flicking through his album collection one by one and he still, miraculously, remembers. It hasn't faded away into the murk like everything else, hasn't blurred together like hunts and zombie friends he left behind. Wow. His eyes flicker over to hers, surprised, and he sees something sparkling in her eyes. It's not as open as that night on the boat. At the same time, Julie's still here.
(Don't ask him where he got some of the vinyls. Seriously - don't ask. They're not one of R's fonder memories).
"I..." R's horrified when he opens his mouth and out dribbles more of the black drool he'd been trying to hold back. He feels his cheeks wishing they could flush again. "Embarrassed" doesn't begin to cover it. "Str...Strangers...in...Night...?"
He has a big weakness for Sinatra, okay? R's so distracted trying to remember things like his favorite songs and how to string words together in a way that doesn't resemble croaking "brains" that he almost forgets how hungry he is.
no subject
(Don't ask him where he got some of the vinyls. Seriously - don't ask. They're not one of R's fonder memories).
"I..." R's horrified when he opens his mouth and out dribbles more of the black drool he'd been trying to hold back. He feels his cheeks wishing they could flush again. "Embarrassed" doesn't begin to cover it. "Str...Strangers...in...Night...?"
He has a big weakness for Sinatra, okay? R's so distracted trying to remember things like his favorite songs and how to string words together in a way that doesn't resemble croaking "brains" that he almost forgets how hungry he is.