Often on Sundays, unless he had specific plans, Rafe took the opportunity to sleep insanely late. He'd always been nocturnal even before he'd been turned, and he'd had a terrible time adjusting to the early morning Air Use class for which he was scheduled. He'd actually done well since he'd been here; he'd only missed the class once from oversleeping. Sunday was different. He'd stayed buried beneath his covers in his darkened room until about half an hour ago. It might make life difficult in the morning when he had to go to class, but today he didn't care.
He'd gotten up and gone down the hall to the bathroom for a quick shower, nothing more than what his ma had called a lick and a promise when he and his siblings had been children. He was a meticulous groomer when he was going somewhere-- or when he was fairly sure he was going to see Tay-- but he'd eased up since he'd been here. For hanging around Terrene, his standards weren't nearly as stringent as they'd been when he'd first arrived at the school. A fast soaping and rinsing, deodorant and a smidge of faint cologne, running a brush through still-damp hair and dressing in his most worn and comfortable jeans and a blue hoodie and he was done.
He was still sleepy even after the shower, but Rafe had decided to stir himself and see if there was anything going on in the house. It seemed to be a soporific Sunday afternoon, so there probably wasn't, but it was worth checking. Often he stayed in his room at the computer for a while after rising for the day, but today he was restless and didn't feel like staring at a screen. He grabbed his acoustic guitar and headed downstairs, the slip-on shoes he wore barely making a sound on the treads of the steps. Muffling a yawn with the back of one hand, he stepped into the common room, hesitating for a split second when he saw that it was already occupied. Maybe he should go out onto the steps.
What the hell, he thought. The girl sitting in front of a chess set looked bored and vaguely familiar. Wasn't she in his Supernatural History and Bloodlust classes? He thought she was, though they'd never spoken and he believed she was fairly new, though he could be wrong on that. He used one foot to kick back the empty chair before planting himself in it, guitar casually resting in his lap as he regarded her with lazy blue eyes. "Afternoon," he mumbled, then yawned again.