Setting
INK
When another voice sounded outside of the room, Gale heaved an internal sigh; he had just gotten comfortable. Still, he hauled himself to his feet as Sonny headed over to the door, blinking at his roommate as he glanced back, and poked his head around the door, in sight, but slightly behind Sonny. It was another girl, and he gave her a friendly nod before retreating slightly, seeing no reason that he should stay beyond his greeting; it wasn't like he would have said anything, anyways. Settling back on his bed, he pawed through his bag to find a book, before hauling his stuff off to the side; he could deal with it in the morning.
Nestling down into a mound of pillows, he found his last place and stuck the bookmark farther on, before beginning to read. He completely shut off most of his awareness of what was around him while reading, and so when he next looked up, was somewhat surprised to see how late it was. The light was still on- which was partially why he had read for so long- and it looked like Sonny had passed out without him noticing. Mentally shrugging, he marked his place and set the book aside to gather up one of the pairs of sleep-pants he had brought, changing quickly and pulling his shirt off. He had discovered at a young age that he would feel like he was strangleing himself wearing a shirt to bed; the last few times he had tried, he had awoken with the sensation that something was wrapped tightly about hit throat. It was actually the shirt collar bunching up, but it was still uncomfortable.
Settling down, he flicked off the light and fell onto his stomach.
When he next woke, his internal clock was practically screaming at him that he shouldn't be awake yet. Nevertheless, he pushed himself up on an elbow to blink blearily at Sonny as he reentered the room. For a few moments he didn't move, before mutting something resembling "Early," and burying his face back in the pillow, ignoring the somewhat chill air on his shoulderblades. He could work through things later.
Nestling down into a mound of pillows, he found his last place and stuck the bookmark farther on, before beginning to read. He completely shut off most of his awareness of what was around him while reading, and so when he next looked up, was somewhat surprised to see how late it was. The light was still on- which was partially why he had read for so long- and it looked like Sonny had passed out without him noticing. Mentally shrugging, he marked his place and set the book aside to gather up one of the pairs of sleep-pants he had brought, changing quickly and pulling his shirt off. He had discovered at a young age that he would feel like he was strangleing himself wearing a shirt to bed; the last few times he had tried, he had awoken with the sensation that something was wrapped tightly about hit throat. It was actually the shirt collar bunching up, but it was still uncomfortable.
Settling down, he flicked off the light and fell onto his stomach.
When he next woke, his internal clock was practically screaming at him that he shouldn't be awake yet. Nevertheless, he pushed himself up on an elbow to blink blearily at Sonny as he reentered the room. For a few moments he didn't move, before mutting something resembling "Early," and burying his face back in the pillow, ignoring the somewhat chill air on his shoulderblades. He could work through things later.