He groans faintly and covers his eyes with a hand to ward off the pulsing headache that's begun to build behind his temples. Today is going great.
His hand drags away when Zhaneel returns, and he accepts the glass with a grateful murmur of, "thanks," and immediately downs half of it in one gulp. A thin trail of scarlet drifts ominously in the clear liquid for a minute, and Sam hastily finishes it off. Still coughing up lungs. Still looking and feeling, categorically, like utter shit. The angels fell, and he failed to close the Gates, and now he's in a crap hotel for his troubles.
"I should probably, uh." He sets the glass carefully down on the ground. "Find my room or something, huh."
no subject
Maybe this is a fever dream.
He groans faintly and covers his eyes with a hand to ward off the pulsing headache that's begun to build behind his temples. Today is going great.
His hand drags away when Zhaneel returns, and he accepts the glass with a grateful murmur of, "thanks," and immediately downs half of it in one gulp. A thin trail of scarlet drifts ominously in the clear liquid for a minute, and Sam hastily finishes it off. Still coughing up lungs. Still looking and feeling, categorically, like utter shit. The angels fell, and he failed to close the Gates, and now he's in a crap hotel for his troubles.
"I should probably, uh." He sets the glass carefully down on the ground. "Find my room or something, huh."