[The alarm clock's display glows red his vision, blurry shapes merging into blurry numbers as he rubs his eye, blinking.
Oswald doesn't know how long he has lain awake, staring hazily into space as the mansion breathes and settles around him. Or how long it was until he knew, really knew, that he's somewhere far from Blackgate; somewhere warm and soft and quiet where he can stretch himself out in all directions and not bump a wrist or foot into a wall. Figuring out why he's still awake is easy enough, though: the tingling fullness in his bladder is impossible to miss.
He sits himself up, slouched, swaying woozily. He looks to the space beside him, a vague memory of Ed and of lying in bed together washing over him. It feels like it was days ago, faraway. He can't even say for sure he hadn't dreamt it the way he dreamt of mother, sometimes, her crooning voice and the touch of her hand so real he'd sob himself awake, his pillow damp under his cheek.
There's a crack of light under the door to the master bathroom; puzzling, maybe even slightly worrying, if he were more alert. But having forgotten it on is possible, he decides, when he clearly hadn't been bothered to change out of his rumpled trousers and dress shirt from the day before. Yawning, he limps to the door and turns the knob without a second thought.]
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Oswald doesn't know how long he has lain awake, staring hazily into space as the mansion breathes and settles around him. Or how long it was until he knew, really knew, that he's somewhere far from Blackgate; somewhere warm and soft and quiet where he can stretch himself out in all directions and not bump a wrist or foot into a wall. Figuring out why he's still awake is easy enough, though: the tingling fullness in his bladder is impossible to miss.
He sits himself up, slouched, swaying woozily. He looks to the space beside him, a vague memory of Ed and of lying in bed together washing over him. It feels like it was days ago, faraway. He can't even say for sure he hadn't dreamt it the way he dreamt of mother, sometimes, her crooning voice and the touch of her hand so real he'd sob himself awake, his pillow damp under his cheek.
There's a crack of light under the door to the master bathroom; puzzling, maybe even slightly worrying, if he were more alert. But having forgotten it on is possible, he decides, when he clearly hadn't been bothered to change out of his rumpled trousers and dress shirt from the day before. Yawning, he limps to the door and turns the knob without a second thought.]