(Untitled)

[jim_halpert]

Jim had never quite shaken his old schedule back home in terms of sleep, now especially because Samantha's own fit in pretty well with it. Still, when he woke up at first, everyone was asleep, and he wasn't too interested in getting up immediately. It wasn't too often they got complete silence like this

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[this_is_pam]

Not often prone to sleeping particularly late herself, it couldn't have been much later when Pam woke up, stretching both arms over her head as she pushed herself up to sitting, smiling over at Jim as she did. Mornings like this weren't altogether uncommon, even if the quiet was notable, but it was nice all the same, something she was sure she could never be sick of.

"Morning," she murmured, voice a little hoarse from sleep. "How long have you been awake?"

[jim_halpert]

Jim glanced over his shoulder when he felt the movement of the bed, a smile crossing his face. He'd been as quiet as he could, so he doubted he'd woken her up. He opened his mouth to reply.

No sound came out.

Eyebrows creasing a little in thought, he shifted to face her and tried again. He got the same result, no matter how much he tied. Not having his voice didn't make sense - his throat didn't hurt and he didn't feel sick. Looking back at Pam, a frown on his face now, he pointed to his throat and shook his head.

He hoped she'd understand what he was trying to say.

[this_is_pam]

"What?" Her smile instantly fading, Pam's expression shifted to one of concern, brows drawing together as she looked over at him. The implication there was obvious - that he couldn't talk - but it simply didn't make sense. Straightening, she rubbed at her eyes, as if that would help somehow, and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. "Jim, are you alright? Do you feel sick, or...?"

[jim_halpert]

That was the strange thing. Besides the fact he couldn't talk, he was completely fine. It was admittedly a little worrying, even though he'd been on the island long enough to automatically assume this might be one of those things that happen here.

At the question, he shook his head no. With no other way to communicate, he made a motion like he was writing on paper. He knew she had plenty of sketch pads laying around, and it seemed the best option for now. Better than his sad attempt at miming what he needed, anyway.