WHO: Charlie and Nona WHEN: Around 2am WHERE: Second floor WHAT: Amateur somnambulism WARNING: Overwhelming tameness, girly screaming
Charlie ran his fingers over the cool metal key in his right hand, clutching at his sopping overnight bag with the other as he followed the numbered doors down to his room. After his incredibly awkward encounter with the preacher at the bar, he informed the concierge of his disability and of all the ways he could be reached without the use of the telephone or a simple knock on the door. He was then assigned to room 209 and set off immediately in that direction. He mused inwardly, and not for the first time, about how ridiculous it was that one could be so exhausted from sitting down all day; as he reached his door, he was overcome by a massive yawn, as if to punctuate the thought.
To his surprise, there were two beds in the room and be briefly considered pushing them together to create one super-bed before remembering that he wasn't twelve years old anymore. Besides, the frames were on wheels and would probably drift apart uncomfortably with his weight on them anyway. He locked the door behind him, setting his key and wet bag on the desk, and got to work separating his belongings into piles of things that needed to be hung up and things that just needed a good wipe-off. To his dismay, the pajamas he'd been hoping were far down enough in the bag to still be wearable created a small puddle on the floor as he pulled them from the bag and he sighed at the thought of having to wear his damp driving clothes to sleep. Sleeping nude was out of the question; regardless of how unlikely it was, Charlie could never shake the feeling that the night he slept naked would be the night someone would barge into his room, get a glimpse of the full monty and run away without Charlie ever knowing it. No, he'd suck it up and sleep in what he had on; his body heat would help him dry off throughout the night... hopefully.
He stripped down and brushed his teeth in the washroom while blow-drying the clothing that hung from the curtain rod; the dryer was weak and didn't do much to combat the dampness but he kept trying until he simply couldn't stand up anymore. With nothing less than a scowl on his face, Charlie put his clothes from the day back on and got under the covers, eyelids heavy and mouth sore from yawning. He chose the bed closest to the window so he could watch the storm and then he closed his eyes.
~*~*~*~*~*~ He sat up in the bed, fast asleep, pushed the covers off and swung his bare feet onto the floor. With his eyes still closed, he walked to the door--spryly dodging obstacles as though he were awake and alert. He turned the lock without any problem and swiftly walked into the hallway, leaving the door wide open in his wake. He turned, placing three fingers against the wall and moving them up and down as he walked, as if he were painting great waves on the plain plaster. As he reached one of the doors he paused and pressed his fingers hard into the wood; he took a deep breath, tipping his head back, and for a moment it looked like he might say something but after a beat he let the breath out and continued walking.