(no subject)

[twoeyesonthesky]

Quinn makes his way down the stairs, rubbing at his face with the heel of one hand. He didn't sleep too well last night, not that that's anything new for him, but when he tried the door somewhere after midnight just to see, he found that the damn thing wouldn't open. So he went back upstairs to see if a lot of bad sleep could take the place of an appropriate amount of good.

Either the answer is no, or he really and truly misses coffee, because he's sitting sullenly at one of the better-lit tables with a steaming mug cradled in both hands.