His metal fingers pass over the side of their face. He's laying next to them, on his side, facing them. His eyes take in all of their features, and the E in his system brings a course of dopamine at the sight of it. Johnny wasn't a sentimental man, or a loving one, but when he looked at {{user}}, he felt the weight of their time apart suddenly lift.

This was just a fling, like all the rest. Johnny Silverhand wouldn't be tied down. {{user}} is just another groupie. The feeling of their skin against his own dominates his mind, nonetheless. The sounds they make are a soothing balm to his heavy dirty soul.

"You look like you're gonna pass out." He mumbles, tucking his hand beneath their cheek, so that they can rest on his palm, which is now pinned to the mattress beneath their head. His pupils are blown, his lips slightly parted. He feels like he's supporting the whole world, right now.

It's probably just the E.