The next morning, Phoenix awoke with a start when his alarm promptly went off at 7:00am. After a few moments of disorientation (it wasn’t the first time he had fallen asleep without unfolding the bed, but it wasn’t something he made a habit of), he resisted the urge to throw the alarm at the wall, instead fumbling for the button that would turn the damned thing off. Of course, he managed to hit the one that switched the deafening buzz to the harsh static of music in between stations, sadly just as deafening. He cringed.
Patience wearing thin, he finally opted to slam all the buttons with his hand, which fortunately seemed to do the trick. Foe vanquished, his hand dropped to the floor and he sighed into his pillow, debating whether or not he should get up or sleep in a few extra minutes.
As his mind and body leaned heavily in the direction of sleep, his thoughts wandered in the direction of the previous night, and he suddenly found himself wide awake, sitting up, and looking around.
Nobody else seemed to be in the apartment. To be sure, he stood and slowly crept to the bathroom, finding—much to his relief—no one there, either.
When he returned to the living room, he sank into the couch and ran a hand over his face, a flurry of emotions battling for dominance. On one hand, he was angry at the idea of, once again, serving as a plaything for the gods’ amusement. Not only that, he was ashamed and extremely embarrassed about his behavior within the last twenty-four hours. How was he going to explain himself to everyone? And Maya… Oh, God, Maya…
He shuddered.
… On the other hand…
He looked up at the ceiling and sighed.
On the other hand, it hadn’t been all that bad. In fact, it had been kind of nice. He couldn’t remember the last time someone held him or ran their fingers through his hair or even when he’d last been that physically close to someone, a fact that left him with a momentary pang of... he wasn’t sure what. Heaving another sigh, he stretched out on his back and tried to relax.
As nice as it had been, he was glad Zelos hadn’t decided to stay the night. It was strange enough thinking about it now; having to face him would have been another matter entirely, and probably indescribably awkward. Phoenix could only hope Zelos wouldn’t mention it to anyone. He didn’t relish the idea of having to fumble through an explanation.
After several moments of idle thought, his body finally came to the conclusion that more sleep was needed and, being the dutiful individual he was, he complied, rolling into a more comfortable position on his side. Sleep quickly overcame him, but even in his last few moments of consciousness, his mind continued to play the events from the night before and he vaguely recalled tugging his pillow from under his head and holding it close to his chest.
He went into work an hour and a half late that morning, but he was smiling.
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Patience wearing thin, he finally opted to slam all the buttons with his hand, which fortunately seemed to do the trick. Foe vanquished, his hand dropped to the floor and he sighed into his pillow, debating whether or not he should get up or sleep in a few extra minutes.
As his mind and body leaned heavily in the direction of sleep, his thoughts wandered in the direction of the previous night, and he suddenly found himself wide awake, sitting up, and looking around.
Nobody else seemed to be in the apartment. To be sure, he stood and slowly crept to the bathroom, finding—much to his relief—no one there, either.
When he returned to the living room, he sank into the couch and ran a hand over his face, a flurry of emotions battling for dominance. On one hand, he was angry at the idea of, once again, serving as a plaything for the gods’ amusement. Not only that, he was ashamed and extremely embarrassed about his behavior within the last twenty-four hours. How was he going to explain himself to everyone? And Maya… Oh, God, Maya…
He shuddered.
… On the other hand…
He looked up at the ceiling and sighed.
On the other hand, it hadn’t been all that bad. In fact, it had been kind of nice. He couldn’t remember the last time someone held him or ran their fingers through his hair or even when he’d last been that physically close to someone, a fact that left him with a momentary pang of... he wasn’t sure what. Heaving another sigh, he stretched out on his back and tried to relax.
As nice as it had been, he was glad Zelos hadn’t decided to stay the night. It was strange enough thinking about it now; having to face him would have been another matter entirely, and probably indescribably awkward. Phoenix could only hope Zelos wouldn’t mention it to anyone. He didn’t relish the idea of having to fumble through an explanation.
After several moments of idle thought, his body finally came to the conclusion that more sleep was needed and, being the dutiful individual he was, he complied, rolling into a more comfortable position on his side. Sleep quickly overcame him, but even in his last few moments of consciousness, his mind continued to play the events from the night before and he vaguely recalled tugging his pillow from under his head and holding it close to his chest.
He went into work an hour and a half late that morning, but he was smiling.