[Initially, Takasugi's request was just as Solomon surmised. A demand that followed a need; his throat is dry, mouth full of phantom cotton and tongue throbbing. His blood flow seems to start and stop with the beat of his heart, a disorienting sensation that leaves him staring at the blooming red on his bandages while Solomon slips away.
His hands are warm, and the moment his caretaker leaves the room, Takasugi feels a chill.
It imbues him with a terrible idea.
Maybe the tylenol has kicked in, but probably not. It's only been like two minutes. He's just in no condition to deny his impulses - his needs. The moment Solomon leaves, Takasugi shifts. One leg, then the other, over the side of the bed. Pushing himself to the edge is an arduous task, one that leaves him shuddering.
But he stands.
Propped against the wall, intent on finding Solomon a way out. A way to more long-lasting solitude. He'll make it as far as he can before he's intercepted - maybe the doorway, maybe the hallway.]
no subject
His hands are warm, and the moment his caretaker leaves the room, Takasugi feels a chill.
It imbues him with a terrible idea.
Maybe the tylenol has kicked in, but probably not. It's only been like two minutes. He's just in no condition to deny his impulses - his needs. The moment Solomon leaves, Takasugi shifts. One leg, then the other, over the side of the bed. Pushing himself to the edge is an arduous task, one that leaves him shuddering.
But he stands.
Propped against the wall, intent on finding
Solomona way out. A way to more long-lasting solitude. He'll make it as far as he can before he's intercepted - maybe the doorway, maybe the hallway.]