Sleep is perverse as human nature
Sunday, October 4th
Lucien's apartment
Night
Haven't trusted myself around people, since Glass. Haven't slept, either - seem to have forgotten how to, somewhere. Can't remember when I last ate. But my body doesn't seem to have entirely caught up with the rest of me, because my eyes are red and sore and my head hurts, and fuck, I want to sleep. Still seeing things wrong: colours, edges. Angles not right, shadows too deep. Bit like coming off the drink, but - not.
...worried about Genny, too. Keep feeling something's - wrong. She's still there in my mind, curled small against me, but...hell. I don't know. Hard to follow a train of thought. Don't know if that's the lack of sleep or the rest of it.
Lucien came staggering in a couple of days ago, looking like every sort of hell. Wasn't as bad looking at him as it was at Glass, but half the time I was aware of that thing in him festering under his skin. Other half, of course, there was that hint of hellfire that reminds me of Iblis.... Fucking mess. Can't get this part of me to settle. Probably a good thing he's been crashing out in the office. Did see him long enough to cadge something off him to make me sleep, though. Stuff tastes foul, but I knock it back and drown it in whiskey. Kick my jeans to the floor and try to get comfortable on the bed. Know it's cold outside (black air cold and crisp between the crystal stars) but I'm not feeling it.
Starting to feel Lucien's drug, though, so I guess something in this body's still working right. Feels like gauze between me and the world, between the too-bright edges. The way the whiskey seems to have stopped doing, lately. Reach for that feeling of Genny again, half-anxious, like putting out a hand to check someone's still there in the night. Sleep's coming up slow, but it's coming. Oh, thank fuck, it's coming.
[Open to Lilith]
Closed
Lucien's apartment
Night
Haven't trusted myself around people, since Glass. Haven't slept, either - seem to have forgotten how to, somewhere. Can't remember when I last ate. But my body doesn't seem to have entirely caught up with the rest of me, because my eyes are red and sore and my head hurts, and fuck, I want to sleep. Still seeing things wrong: colours, edges. Angles not right, shadows too deep. Bit like coming off the drink, but - not.
...worried about Genny, too. Keep feeling something's - wrong. She's still there in my mind, curled small against me, but...hell. I don't know. Hard to follow a train of thought. Don't know if that's the lack of sleep or the rest of it.
Lucien came staggering in a couple of days ago, looking like every sort of hell. Wasn't as bad looking at him as it was at Glass, but half the time I was aware of that thing in him festering under his skin. Other half, of course, there was that hint of hellfire that reminds me of Iblis.... Fucking mess. Can't get this part of me to settle. Probably a good thing he's been crashing out in the office. Did see him long enough to cadge something off him to make me sleep, though. Stuff tastes foul, but I knock it back and drown it in whiskey. Kick my jeans to the floor and try to get comfortable on the bed. Know it's cold outside (black air cold and crisp between the crystal stars) but I'm not feeling it.
Starting to feel Lucien's drug, though, so I guess something in this body's still working right. Feels like gauze between me and the world, between the too-bright edges. The way the whiskey seems to have stopped doing, lately. Reach for that feeling of Genny again, half-anxious, like putting out a hand to check someone's still there in the night. Sleep's coming up slow, but it's coming. Oh, thank fuck, it's coming.
[Open to Lilith]
Closed