Murphy chuckled at Ben’s poor attempt at a poem, acting predictably and reaching out to hit Ben’ in the chest with the back of his hand in reprimand.
“That really was rubbish. You need to work on that, or just stop,” Murphy said with a grin, tearing his gaze away from the stars to glance sideways at the blonde. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tried writing poetry, he much preferred prose although he liked to think that on occasion parts of what he wrote could be quite poetic. That generally wasn’t what was called for in reporting though.
He stayed quiet for a few seconds, before returning his gaze upwards, comfortable to just be quiet with Ben - he always felt more at peace with him than with anyone else - human or vampire. He’d enjoyed listening to the ancient’s stories, but there was the nagging feeling he wanted more. He’d wanted to know more about Ben. Murphy hadn’t mentioned that to his friend, he had no idea how to bring it up or even if he should. Maybe it would get back to Charon somehow - but maybe he could just say someone had been asking questions, and not specify who.
He’d even considered cancelling tonight, so that when he next saw Charon there would be nothing to tell. But given the choice between spending time sat in the office, or an empty house, or being with Ben, there had been no competition, whether or not it was wise.
“There was a star that shone so bright, Gleaming in the darkest night. It was seen from shore to shore, Until one day, it was no more; The star fell from its height.” He had no idea where that had come from, maybe he’d heard it as a kid once, or read it somewhere, but staring at the stars and thinking on the politics of the vampires of this city brought it to mind.
“Limericks are always better when they’re dirty,” Murphy added with a smile.