Heine woke feeling just as weak and nauseated as he had the night before. The sheets stuck to him where they touched bare skin, and his head was pounding enough to make him lay back down and throw the sheets off entirely. He didn't want to think about last night, he didn't even want to pretend it really happened.
It wasn't until his nurse arrived and threatened to help him dress that he finally pushed himself out of bed. He flinched away from the woman's help and concern, refusing their medication, though he managed to get up and grab the offered clothing. At first, the gesture confused him. Why the hell were they getting different clothing? Was he being released?
Explanations were minimal, but Heine was under the impression they were going on some kind of trip. He hoped for a chance at escape, but bastards like the ones running this place? They didn't dangle a prize like this carelessly. If they got away, it was because they were meant to. If not? It was just another show of force.
Heine scratched his left arm absently and pulled on the skinny dark-wash jeans and sneakers without comment. The t-shirt was some screaming endorsement for an indie rock band, but he refused the argyle sweater and took a thin jacket instead, some kind of hoodie that had seen better days.
At least it covered most of the reddish rash that seemed to be running up his arm, and he shoved his hands in the front pockets without a sound. The bus ride wasn't much more exciting, and he ignored the bag of breakfast thrust at him until he found a seat. The nurse set it next to him anyway and he went about crumbling bits of his blueberry muffin and dropping them onto the floor.
no subject
It wasn't until his nurse arrived and threatened to help him dress that he finally pushed himself out of bed. He flinched away from the woman's help and concern, refusing their medication, though he managed to get up and grab the offered clothing. At first, the gesture confused him. Why the hell were they getting different clothing? Was he being released?
Explanations were minimal, but Heine was under the impression they were going on some kind of trip. He hoped for a chance at escape, but bastards like the ones running this place? They didn't dangle a prize like this carelessly. If they got away, it was because they were meant to. If not? It was just another show of force.
Heine scratched his left arm absently and pulled on the skinny dark-wash jeans and sneakers without comment. The t-shirt was some screaming endorsement for an indie rock band, but he refused the argyle sweater and took a thin jacket instead, some kind of hoodie that had seen better days.
At least it covered most of the reddish rash that seemed to be running up his arm, and he shoved his hands in the front pockets without a sound. The bus ride wasn't much more exciting, and he ignored the bag of breakfast thrust at him until he found a seat. The nurse set it next to him anyway and he went about crumbling bits of his blueberry muffin and dropping them onto the floor.
[Free]