(no subject)
Sephiroth falls onto his bed simply exhausted, his eyes overcast by the dark circles that swallow his eyes. Failing at pushing his self up further on the dipped mattress, he notices his one hand is filthy, covered in dirt and something with a heavy metalic tang.
"What day is it?" He mumbles, closing his eyes as he lays half off the bed, ignorant to the trail of debris and spent clothes he had left starting at his bedroom door.
Can't... think.
"What day is it?" He mumbles, closing his eyes as he lays half off the bed, ignorant to the trail of debris and spent clothes he had left starting at his bedroom door.
Can't... think.