Week 0, Thursday - Sandalphon

[fragileprophet]

[There's something...tense about the night. Maybe it's because it's the only night of the week with a curfew. It isn't too long after the dorms lock for the night, and without much else left to do but stew in nervous energy, Ion goes to bed without fuss.

And, in that nervous energy, he lays, unable to sleep, back to his roommate, trying not to toss and turn. Ultimately, he can't help himself, and he dares to call out softly.]

Are you asleep?

Comments

[fragileprophet]

Then it stands to reason to think about something else, doesn't it?

[But he has no idea what to think about instead. It's hard to drag anything else up. Anything too positive feels cheap.]

How do you find it in you to tear yourself away from thoughts that serve no purpose?

[melancoffeea]

I don't know.

[Beyond ceasing to care about everything, he hasn't figured that part out. Is a spare capable of having meaningful thought? Maybe there isn't a way; maybe they're doomed to be trapped within themselves like this for as long as they draw breath.

All of a sudden, he feels tired again.]

I don't know . . .

[fragileprophet]

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have troubled you so much over it--of course I know, nobody ever has all the answers.

[Why are they both so depressed?]

Nonetheless, I thank you for taking the time. This means a lot to me.

[melancoffeea]

Mm.

[Why thank him? He had nothing helpful to say. And while the conversation is as good as over, leaving it this way doesn't feel right or proper.

Several beats pass before Sandalphon pipes up softly.]

Stay close to me tomorrow.