Re: Orange County Hospital - Recovery Room
Of course this silly Miles man would continue to call him Glasses. Archer knew he should have expected this. At another time, he'd have been annoyed. Perhaps even now he was a bit irritated at this man's flagrant disregard for the fact that nicknames only applied to those who could be called "friends." But pure - or, in this case, mostly pure - oxygen had a calming effect on the body. Reaching up to adjust the tube that sat in his nostrils, he ran his fingers over the thin tubes that looped over his ears before dropping his hands in his lap.
Once again, the room echoed with the sound of Miles' rustling and fussing over his things. Honestly, Archer was barely paying attention. He heard the man mumble about how his things had been thrown away, and couldn't bother to give the statement more than the most minimal of thoughts. It wasn't his problem, after all.
As Miles gave up his search, Archer opened his eyes, turning slightly to the other man with no expression on his face. "I wouldn't dream of trying to out-compete you in any inane field," he said blankly, the true meaning of those words up to interpretation. He reached up to remove his glasses, folding them and placing them on a nearby table. His hand was visibly shaking even with the minor effort of the action, every bone and blood vessel in the appendage seemingly visible through his paper-thin skin.
Pulling his hand back, he laced his fingers in his lap and leaned back in his bed, which was tilted up to resemble a recliner chair. He didn't like feeling this drained, but it was almost nice to have the comfort of a hospital around him as his body slowly sank into collapse.