![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
Didn't Dream It This Way
Who: Kyle and Adam
When: First thing
Where: All over
Comfort. Warmth. Soft covers that were pulled up around his neck.
Those were the first sensations Kyle encountered when he woke. Safe, secure, warm, wonderful. And entirely unexpected. He opened his eyes, awake in an instant. This was wrong. He saw up, light spilling in through the curtains. A strange room. Where was he? Some kind of a hotel. He hadn’t gone to sleep in a hotel. He didn’t have the money on him for this kind of thing. He had finally gone to sleep in the park, on a bench. It hadn’t been that cold out and he had been so tired and where was he?
Kyle stumbled out of bed. He was still in his clothes from yesterday. He could feel the remnants of tears and snot on his face from crying too much last night, when the reality of Nelson’s death and what he had caused had caught up with him. Feel the bruises on his body from where Harry had hauled him out of the apartment. He reached up and touched his face. A split lip, maybe.
None of it compared to the question of Where am I?. He groped for the door, missing the note in his room entirely. Opening it, he stepped outside. A corridor. Clearly an hotel. Where am I?
( What We Want )
When: First thing
Where: All over
Comfort. Warmth. Soft covers that were pulled up around his neck.
Those were the first sensations Kyle encountered when he woke. Safe, secure, warm, wonderful. And entirely unexpected. He opened his eyes, awake in an instant. This was wrong. He saw up, light spilling in through the curtains. A strange room. Where was he? Some kind of a hotel. He hadn’t gone to sleep in a hotel. He didn’t have the money on him for this kind of thing. He had finally gone to sleep in the park, on a bench. It hadn’t been that cold out and he had been so tired and where was he?
Kyle stumbled out of bed. He was still in his clothes from yesterday. He could feel the remnants of tears and snot on his face from crying too much last night, when the reality of Nelson’s death and what he had caused had caught up with him. Feel the bruises on his body from where Harry had hauled him out of the apartment. He reached up and touched his face. A split lip, maybe.
None of it compared to the question of Where am I?. He groped for the door, missing the note in his room entirely. Opening it, he stepped outside. A corridor. Clearly an hotel. Where am I?
( What We Want )