In Murphy's experience, smiles had all kinds of different meanings. Not just comfort, but trickery as well, belonging to back-stabbing motherfuckers who get a kick just to see you fall.

Cibo was not one of those people. Watching her shift from traumatized despair to this facade that led to awareness and solace left Murphy with something of an emotional whiplash. Not that he was going to say anything about it.

His jaw clamped as he walked, never looking at Cibo directly. This was not merely because of her pantslessness, but a habit altogether. Eye contact, social norms, women in general...

Sometimes, it just didn't seem like any of this was real. That maybe he was still locked up tight, key thrown down a trash chute. He would close his eyes and wake up and find that he was alone all along.

The sounds of Cibo's footfalls reminded him that he may still be asleep.

"You gonna be alright?" He didn't want to just drop her off in her room if she was going to have another episode like that.