If Autor were awake and could read Fakir's thoughts, he'd chide him for focusing on a silly thing like girls--especially that girl, honestly!--even when his own mind wanders horribly during these rites. But Autor is asleep, and he sleeps until mid-morning, as he missed the night before.
The boy stretches, groggily combing his fingers through his hair. He finds his glasses on the table next to the couch and dons them, blinking blearily as his eyes adjust.
Autor heads to the restroom to wash his face, and then crosses to the desk to pour a glass of water for Fakir out of the pitcher. "Break time," he says, offering him the glass. "You're almost there."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2015-01-29 04:12 am (UTC)If Autor were awake and could read Fakir's thoughts, he'd chide him for focusing on a silly thing like girls--especially that girl, honestly!--even when his own mind wanders horribly during these rites. But Autor is asleep, and he sleeps until mid-morning, as he missed the night before.
The boy stretches, groggily combing his fingers through his hair. He finds his glasses on the table next to the couch and dons them, blinking blearily as his eyes adjust.
Autor heads to the restroom to wash his face, and then crosses to the desk to pour a glass of water for Fakir out of the pitcher. "Break time," he says, offering him the glass. "You're almost there."