[It's rather late in the night, but here Allen is, preparing a cup of tea in a neutral kitchen like it's a natural thing to be doing at this hour. He's not even much of a tea-drinker, but he's making an exception tonight. Because, it's supposed to be relaxing, isn't it?]
[Allen has made himself scarce and avoided generally everybody for the past few days, save for a single trip to the clinic that was cut short when he decided to bail. Alternately stalking through empty corridors (half-looking for someone) or keeping to his room, he hasn't answered his door for anyone who would be so inclined to as to knock. And now he's hoping (perhaps stupidly) that no one will be visiting this particular kitchen at this particular time. From the look of him, he hasn't slept much at all; face slightly gaunt, with dark rings beneath his eyes as he watches the water heat in the pot... but he feels wide-awake at the moment regardless, posture tense.
It seems he's gotten himself into a bit of trouble recently: he's decently bruised in various places, there's a thin pad of gauze taped just below his left eye, while he's hiding a few more bandages and sticking plasters under his pajamas, and he's leaning on a crutch propped under his right arm. But the injuries aren't what's been bothering him.]
[[Slighty backdated to this weekend, a few days after his
fight with
fallforthesky . He's been in a funk, someone bug him.]]