Snippet #2267887

Blake got up sleepy and tired. He felt like his blood was filled with lead. Of course, it wasn't actually. He made his way around his room, his clothes sort of flying out of his dresser and he grabbed them, and in his sleepiness, somehow managed to put them on. When it came to mornings, Blake was, by far, the WORST at them here. He finally managed to get dressed, properly, and made his way to the cafeteria.

As he made his way in, an apple flew into his hand. He took a bite of it, then got the rest of his food. He somehow made his way over to a table, he couldn't see which or where, and began eating. It was/is a generally accepted theory that when he gets older, his primary source of energy will likely become coffee. If he ever gets a taste for it.

When they mentioned Therapy, he flinched for a moment, and the light closest to him was cracked slightly, a result from his suppressing most of the emotion he just felt. He sighed, muttering something even he couldn't quite hear properly, and continued eating, remaining oblivious to everyone in the room for the moment.