(no subject)
Tim's hungover.
It's not quite as bad as the one he'd had a few weeks ago, but still heavy and pounding, making bright lights seem even brighter and noises louder and harsher. Thankfully, most of the Compound is had also been suffering from the same illness, leaving the building mostly quiet until a humane hour.
He'd dragged himself off the couch at one point and grabbed a shower and now he's standing in front of the clothes box in the basement, wet hair hanging in front of his eyes as he digs through the pile of awful fabric. The air is cool against his damp skin, but he manages to not shiver as he finally pulls out a sweatshirt. It's black with silver lettering and he frowns at the writing on it, barely holding back from rolling his eyes.
It's only as he's pulling the sweatshirt on over his head that he realizes he's not alone in the room and he looks over his shoulder.
... Shit.
It's not quite as bad as the one he'd had a few weeks ago, but still heavy and pounding, making bright lights seem even brighter and noises louder and harsher. Thankfully, most of the Compound is had also been suffering from the same illness, leaving the building mostly quiet until a humane hour.
He'd dragged himself off the couch at one point and grabbed a shower and now he's standing in front of the clothes box in the basement, wet hair hanging in front of his eyes as he digs through the pile of awful fabric. The air is cool against his damp skin, but he manages to not shiver as he finally pulls out a sweatshirt. It's black with silver lettering and he frowns at the writing on it, barely holding back from rolling his eyes.
It's only as he's pulling the sweatshirt on over his head that he realizes he's not alone in the room and he looks over his shoulder.
... Shit.