RP: Sam, G Who: Sam, G (maybe Sean and/or Jenna) Where: Their house When: Septembe 18, 2011 Summary: When you don't want to use your powers, they have a way to make you
Sam wasn't one who slept a lot. Of course, compared to G, he looked like he was always sleeping, but that was just G. He still slept a lot less than most people, at least normally. Lately, he found that he was taking every opportunity to sleep the extra hour. At first, he had blamed it on Ramadan. One whole month with a revolutionized routine had an impact on your body, but now, he didn't have that excuse anymore, except that it was Sunday morning, the sun was out (it had to be at least nine o'clock), and he was still in bed.
At least the fatigue that he'd been feeling lately was gone. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone. Again, he thought that he was coming off from Ramadan and there was no point in complaining. It was his choice to respect the holiday and he shouldn't put it on anyone. Besides, if he started complaining, then it would open the doors for everyone else, and he was not starting the flood of complains. However, it seemed that it wasn't going to be a problem anymore, because it was gone. Completely. No soreness, no fatigue, nothing but rested muscles. It felt perfect.
He finally opened his eyes, and got up. He made a beeline for the bathroom, except when he reached for the door knob, his hand moved through. He looked down at his arm, and he must be dreaming. Or he was still asleep. He ran in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection. "Fuck!" If he hadn't been so well trained, he'd let out a girlish scream. He still felt the need to do so as panic set in. "G," he called out. "G, where the fuck are you?" And really he didn't curse, he didn't like to curse, but he was a fucking a ghost - or something, - locked in his own fucking bedroom and suddenly he had started to sound like Brian Kinney in his head. "G, get you ass in here." Okay, so he was close to sounding like a girl, but a ghost? What kind of power was that?