On the Ceiling ((Narrative))

[thomas_small]

(( I haven't stated this before, but unless otherwise specified all narratives are open to anyone whom it would be feasible to meet. Feel free to come in either IC or OOC anytime. ))

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[twitchnosewitch]

Around half-past twelve, any concerns that the phone has been disconnected are put to rest, for it rings.

[thomas_small]

He funbles one numb hand around for the phone for a few rings, then finally gets a solid grasp on it and brings it to his face. The painkillers really are dulling his senses, and his speech as well.

"...H'lo? Who's there?

[twitchnosewitch]

"Hello darling." There's a little shiver in her voice. "I've gotten tired of saving little old ladies from getting trampled in the mall. Are you busy?"

[thomas_small]

He's too completely out of it to catch the change in her voice. "No, but don't think I can be v'ry active for the m'ment."

[twitchnosewitch]

"Oh? Well, I could get us takeout and some movies and we can just sit around and be utterly lazy..." Which is good, because now a voice in the back of her head is screaming OHNOES, HE'S SICK, PANICPANICPANIC!, and it's bound to come through in her tone a bit.

[thomas_small]

"If you wan'. Don't feel like doing much t'day. 'M not going t' be much 'f an int'resting person." He curls up tighter on the bed, holding back a groan as his insides seem to all knot up again.

[twitchnosewitch]

"Tom...is something wrong?" She's hoping he gets upset that she's worrying. It'll mean he's not as bad-off as she fears.

[thomas_small]

"No. 'M fine. Jus' tired." Honesty would probably make her worry less, but this is where that nasty little liar part comes out, along with the pride and masochism and all those other things that have landed him here.

[twitchnosewitch]

"Okay...anything you want me to pick up in particular?" Honesty would make her feel better, certainly, but she's never really expected that from him. "Food, movies, anything at all?"

[thomas_small]

"No food. Might be more ent'rtain..." He trails off for a bit, the catches himself. "Entertaining f'r you if ye brought a m'vie."

Christ, he knows he sounds horrible, but he can't get his tongue to move fast enough.

[twitchnosewitch]

"Okay. Are you in any shape to answer the door, or may I let myself in?"

He's so lucky she's trying to behave, instead of just dragging him off to Lea...

[thomas_small]

"I'm fine. ''ll ge' the door. Jus' knock when ye wan' in."

Very lucky in that way.

[twitchnosewitch]

"Sure you are. I'll be there soon."

Giving him a Very Stern Talking-To about not telling the truth about his health can wait until she's there in person.

[thomas_small]

"Alrigh'. Don't use the bell." He remembers the headache the alarm clock gave him in this condition.

He knows he's going to get it anyway. May as well try and postpone it.

[twitchnosewitch]

Because that's always a good plan...

"Okay. Bye..." She hangs up, a little hesitant, a small part of her worried that he's going to be worse by the time she gets there.

Not that she lets it take long for her to get there. She remembers to not use the bell.

[thomas_small]

Some people just never learn from some mistakes.

At her knocking, he struggles for the energy to get up out of the bed and stops for a second as that damned floor rushes up at him. Putting a hand to the wall and closing his eyes for a moment, he takes careful steps to the door and tries to stand up straight enough to not look like a wreck, a difficult thing to do when the baseboards are so strangely uneven (and funny, he doesn't remember them being like that yesterday).

He opens up the door, forcing his mouth to work clearly for the instant. "Come on in, Rosie."