Room 407, Friday Morning
Arthur woke up very slowly in a bed that was not his own in a room that was not his own. This wasn't much different from the way he'd woken up over the past six months or so, and ergo he didn't react much beyond wrangling some of the blankets closer towards himself.
There was something needling at the back of his head, something he pointedly didn't want to think about, something he knew he was going to start thinking about as soon as the sleep drowsiness faded.
So he snagged said sleep drowsiness with both metaphorical hands, shifted, and didn't do much else.
[[ for that guy with the ears, and sp like woah ]]
There was something needling at the back of his head, something he pointedly didn't want to think about, something he knew he was going to start thinking about as soon as the sleep drowsiness faded.
So he snagged said sleep drowsiness with both metaphorical hands, shifted, and didn't do much else.
[[ for that guy with the ears, and sp like woah ]]