"Gimme somethin'," he said to her. "Just somethin' to work with, here."
He was shivering, kind of.
Naturally, she thought he just needed a bump.
He'd been off the stuff for weeks, though. He was shivering because being honest made his teeth chatter -- as if the vulnerable request of reciprocal love was of a freezing cold nature. He needed to know that after the snort and fuck, her eyes saw into his soul, too.
"You ain't gotta beg," she said, cutting two lines.
And he took it; he was addicted. Just not to the stuff going up his nose.
Cue the song: