Who: Neil / The Phantom
What: Memories Plot.
Where: His swanky suite.
Things to avoid: Lol seriously. It's me. No holds barred.
Like any sane person at this hour of the day, Neil was asleep. He had no reason to be up early, and so he often slept in, his mornings lazy and languid, before he dragged himself out of bed and searched for the motivation to do something with the rest of his day. There were still a good few hours before he felt he needed to get up, and Erik had long since ceased to complain about his laziness. His level of sleep meant that the headache began as a dull ache, one easily ignored, until it built, a heavy tempo, and he dragged his eyes open with a groan.
Aspirin, he thought hazily, pushing himself up into a sitting position, and then a wave of dizziness struck, nearly knocking him back against the pillows.
Fuck. He couldn't be hungover, since he hadn't been drinking the night before, unless he'd been drinking so much that he forgot about it entirely. That didn't sound right, though, and he brought a hand to his forehead as he struggled to keep upright, but he lost the battle a moment later, burying his face into the mass of pillows with a string of muffled curses.
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