[CLOSED TO FOX] Weak is a relative description
It was the knock that woke Rob, sharp and purposeful like it always was. Fox never took any shit, and he wasn't sure she realised that came out in most of her every day actions. It took him a few groggy moments to realise he was still on the bathroom floor. The smell of vomit was strong and he realised in disgust that he had missed the toilet, probably when he was in that waning phase between awake and asleep.
He rose up off the floor into a sitting position, rubbing a hand over his bare chest. The room spun as his head protested the new position, forcing him to sink back against the wall and close his eyes. "It's open!" he called out in the direction of the door, but his voice was hoarse. A hand swept over his face to try and staunch the woozy feeling told him he was still drenched in a heavy sweat. "Jesus..." he mumbled to himself and took a couple of deep, laboured breaths. Maybe he had drunk more at that bar with the House dude than he thought? And ironically enough, all he felt like was a smoke.
He rose up off the floor into a sitting position, rubbing a hand over his bare chest. The room spun as his head protested the new position, forcing him to sink back against the wall and close his eyes. "It's open!" he called out in the direction of the door, but his voice was hoarse. A hand swept over his face to try and staunch the woozy feeling told him he was still drenched in a heavy sweat. "Jesus..." he mumbled to himself and took a couple of deep, laboured breaths. Maybe he had drunk more at that bar with the House dude than he thought? And ironically enough, all he felt like was a smoke.