[ He sleeps deep and soundly. Maybe it's the fact that it was a long day and the booze and the partying finally let his brain shut down enough to let him really rest, but Josh blinks awake to the sight of his digital clock staring back at him just as the minute clicks to 3:15.
It's too dark in his room, the soft glow of the white-blue digits surrounded by shadow and the faint hint of lights from.the lamps outside on the street -- but he's wide awake; alert.
There is also, the distinct sound of dripping ( did I forget to shut the tap right? ) which prompts him to roll around with a heavy, well-rested sigh, he's thinking about how maybe he can jog again and come back in time to catch a couple more hours before he has to get up, get dressed and head to London for another day of work.
But--
--sitting up now, because there's a figure sitting by his window, and he knows the way Makoto looks enough by now that he's not startled by the silhouette so much as alarm bells are sounding in his head because... It's too soon for him to looks this solid. ]
[ Josh doesn't touch the bed. It's strange. He was excited about this, was grateful for Stanley going back in a second time to clearly make a piece of furniture permanent for his room in the Tower, but now, he's sitting in his mostly bare room, staring at that bed and finds that he's not entirely sure if he can bring himself to sleep in it.
He can't remember Stanley's exact words; only that "emotions" and "shelved" and "he is mature enough" was part of that whole spiel and these keep coming back to him. There's an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach that he doesn't know what to do with or how to define because... just because.
How the night went from awkward to okay to better to good to suddenly this, he really isn't sure.
So he's just sitting there with his head in his hands waiting for Makoto to show up -- if ever the geist does. ]
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It's too dark in his room, the soft glow of the white-blue digits surrounded by shadow and the faint hint of lights from.the lamps outside on the street -- but he's wide awake; alert.
There is also, the distinct sound of dripping ( did I forget to shut the tap right? ) which prompts him to roll around with a heavy, well-rested sigh, he's thinking about how maybe he can jog again and come back in time to catch a couple more hours before he has to get up, get dressed and head to London for another day of work.
But--
--sitting up now, because there's a figure sitting by his window, and he knows the way Makoto looks enough by now that he's not startled by the silhouette so much as alarm bells are sounding in his head because... It's too soon for him to looks this solid. ]
Oh yeah date: June 8, 2063 || 3 AM
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Waking the Dead 2.0 | Saturday, 14 July 2063 : "make it up and then i take it off the shelf"
He can't remember Stanley's exact words; only that "emotions" and "shelved" and "he is mature enough" was part of that whole spiel and these keep coming back to him. There's an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach that he doesn't know what to do with or how to define because... just because.
How the night went from awkward to okay to better to good to suddenly this, he really isn't sure.
So he's just sitting there with his head in his hands waiting for Makoto to show up -- if ever the geist does. ]
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i apologize that his introspection is so tldr;
lol
/)(\
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