(no subject)
It wasn't really his house, but it was, in that dream-logic sense. There were five or six firends over, sitting around on couches, playing some space role-play. What was I doing there? I hate space. I showed up in the middle, and everyone turned to stare. Some of the girls looked down at the coffee table, in that frustrated way, whatever they wanted from him, he was saving it for me. I had the confidence of someone who had snuck in earlier to find that he'd been collecting pictures of me on his computer. Breaking and entering? Entering definitely, I was so sneaky getting in, even I don't know how I did it. Ninja magic. His dog had been lonely, glad to see me, didn't bark at all. Maybe I lay on the carpet under the coffee table for a while, petting the dog. Then seeing the computer, and the pictures, and leaving. I don't know what I did for the in-between time. When I returned, I came right in and climbed over the back of the couch to sit near him, my knee touching his leg. I smelled blood. He turned a way and fiddled with something that was next to him. When he turned back, his face was covered in blood, very wet and dark, but it smelled somewhat stale. I don't know what I was expected to do, lick it off. I asked whose it was. He seemed somewhat disappointed, and started trying to wipe it off with the black rags in the bucket next to him, which were all soaked, so it just smeared around. I wanted to help, but I didn't want to touch it. He explained that he had been attacked by some guy, and that he'd hurt the guy really bad. He sounded scared. Everyone else was just dumbstruck by this whole thing, all awkward silence and shuffling feet. Someone wanted to continue the game, but it had gotten a little weird for just picking up where they left off.