Blacking out the friction. who: Xander.
what: Xander waking up, chillin out.
when: Early morning.
where: Hotel lobby; Cleveland.
locked to: Open.
status: Incomplete.
I think that it's brainless to assume that making changes
to your window's view will give a new perspective.
And the hardest part is yet to come When Xander awoke, it was the twilight hours of the morning where neither night nor day were dominant and a dull blue awashed everything. The delicate space of time where dawn raged towards them but no trace of ginger burn was evident in the sky, not yet. His eyelids lifted gradually, taking a second to adjust to the in pour of muted light and color through
two russet hues. Things held in a state of ambiguity before finally coming into focus. The room was essentially barren, stocked with only the barest essentials (even the bathroom seemed bare, no fancy soap or towel hanging from a rack.) The only item of comfort was a queen sized mattress covering a decent portion of the wooden panels and a dresser pushed up against the wall near the window. It was a quiet testament to how he lived his life nowadays, taking nothing for granted or in excess. Movements based in sluggish approach, he rose to a sitting position, tossing the comforter off and letting his legs hang from the side of the bed. Clad in only a pair of blue-black boxers and a white t-shirt, a drowsy yawn expelled past his chapped lips and into the silence of the room, effectively breaking it. A glance to the alarm clock faithfully resting on the dresser top told him that it was seven in the morning. It was somewhat early for him to be getting up on a day he didn’t work but his brain had already been turned on, he might as well get up than spend the next thirty minutes laying prone in bed, hoping that if he can still his body enough, it might still his thoughts and sleep would find him again.
( It's just an escape (it's overrated anyways) )