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[Sep. 20th, 2009|11:23 am] |
*awakens somewhere far too bright to be his hotel room and has to take a moment to get his head together*
*closes his eyes against the light and thinks back to the previous night (all of this in a split-second)—another(?) show that saw him feeling like death warmed over and keeping himself upright only through risky means; feeling progressively worse, sicker as the concert wore on, culminating in—*
*starts, his eyes flying open as he realizes he can remember walking back onstage for the encore...but nothing after* *in the same moment, processes the smells (flowers and something medicinal) and sounds (machinery beeping, heels clicking on cold floors) filling the room and beyond (hospital)*
*as is his first instinct (it's not as bad as it looks), tries to reach for the phone that he's certain will be on a table beside his bed, only then noticing that his hand is caught on something, and that something is another hand, and it belongs to...*
*blinks at Glorfindel and croaks* It's not as bad as it looks. |
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groggy