Room 506, Saturday Late Afternoon
After meeting his big sibling and Tara, Dolf had wandered around the picnic for a while. He still felt as if in a daze, words sometimes rushing by too fast for him to identify them. His legs felt heavy, and so did his head, and by the time he remembered about the room number he'd seen on the list, the world seemed to be spinning just a little bit.
Several stairs later, he was there. Standing in the doorway, he stared at the beds, one after the other and back again, and felt thoroughly out of place. The last place he had slept was the hard ground in a ruined abbey, surrounded by hundreds of children in various stages of health. It had been nothing like this, nothing at all, and the sentiment caught in his throat and nearly strangled him.
He was here now. Here. Now. And he felt exhausted.
Giving only a brief thought to what bed his roommate might prefer, Dolf stumbled across the room to the nearest horizontal surface and fell down on it. A few minutes later, he thought to remove the breadknife from his clothing, carefully so he wouldn't cut himself, and placed it underneath the pillow as a sort of safety blanket.
He twisted sideways on the bed, and stared at the wall. Tired, but not sleeping. He thought of Leonardo, and what he must have thought when Dolf had vanished in front of him. Of little Mariecke, who was going all that way back up to Northern Italy with him, and then maybe Palermo, some few years into the future. All the children, to be shipped away to Venice to live through the winter. Would they make it without him?
He stared at the wall and let his stomach twist just as long as it needed before, finally, the shock won out, and he passed into a deep, dreamless sleep.
[[ door closed, post open if you want to poke at him before he falls asleep - or after. we don't judge ]]
Several stairs later, he was there. Standing in the doorway, he stared at the beds, one after the other and back again, and felt thoroughly out of place. The last place he had slept was the hard ground in a ruined abbey, surrounded by hundreds of children in various stages of health. It had been nothing like this, nothing at all, and the sentiment caught in his throat and nearly strangled him.
He was here now. Here. Now. And he felt exhausted.
Giving only a brief thought to what bed his roommate might prefer, Dolf stumbled across the room to the nearest horizontal surface and fell down on it. A few minutes later, he thought to remove the breadknife from his clothing, carefully so he wouldn't cut himself, and placed it underneath the pillow as a sort of safety blanket.
He twisted sideways on the bed, and stared at the wall. Tired, but not sleeping. He thought of Leonardo, and what he must have thought when Dolf had vanished in front of him. Of little Mariecke, who was going all that way back up to Northern Italy with him, and then maybe Palermo, some few years into the future. All the children, to be shipped away to Venice to live through the winter. Would they make it without him?
He stared at the wall and let his stomach twist just as long as it needed before, finally, the shock won out, and he passed into a deep, dreamless sleep.
[[ door closed, post open if you want to poke at him before he falls asleep - or after. we don't judge ]]