[With Chuck out of the room, he suddenly feels everything is too quiet. Without his breath to fill his ears, or the little hums he lets out once in a while with a sigh, the absent tapping of his fingers on everything he could touch - even his own thigh - he thinks he hears emptiness.
Even the room smells different, he figures as he looks to the ceiling, arms spread out. He's under the blanket, still, but he feels a little cold. It irks him, makes him restless. He curls onto his side and he catches a whiff of the same shampoo they use on the pillowcase, except mingled with Chuck's own scent.
[It's sticking to him like the image in the back of his eyelids of said hair spread over it, Chuck's mouth parting as he rubs his temple on the pillow.]
He turns again, goes back to watching the ceiling, eyes wide, thoughts and heart getting into a sure third gear.
The click of Chuck's door shuts the whole engine off, though. He hears the padding towards the bathroom - the limp is slowly leaving, thankfully - and hears the customary creak from the bathroom door as it opens. He sighs, shakes his head. It's no use thinking too much about it. He was just resting idle and without Chuck around he had nothing to pay attention to but his own mind, and the burn marks resting underneath his skin.
He pries himself off the bed, rolling his shoulders at the cold and the sudden position. Takes off his boxers and wipes his hand with them, at least to get an older but clean pair to make the trip to the bathroom. After that he looks down at his shirt. It was hanging off loosely, the collar showing a bit more of his shoulder than it used to.
He shrugs and leaves it on, clears up the floor of his room a little while he waits for Chuck to shower for a bit - he can tell when he's about to finish, anyway.]
lmaksdlkas oh you <3
Even the room smells different, he figures as he looks to the ceiling, arms spread out. He's under the blanket, still, but he feels a little cold. It irks him, makes him restless. He curls onto his side and he catches a whiff of the same shampoo they use on the pillowcase, except mingled with Chuck's own scent.
[It's sticking to him like the image in the back of his eyelids of said hair spread over it, Chuck's mouth parting as he rubs his temple on the pillow.]
He turns again, goes back to watching the ceiling, eyes wide, thoughts and heart getting into a sure third gear.
The click of Chuck's door shuts the whole engine off, though. He hears the padding towards the bathroom - the limp is slowly leaving, thankfully - and hears the customary creak from the bathroom door as it opens. He sighs, shakes his head. It's no use thinking too much about it. He was just resting idle and without Chuck around he had nothing to pay attention to but his own mind, and the burn marks resting underneath his skin.
He pries himself off the bed, rolling his shoulders at the cold and the sudden position. Takes off his boxers and wipes his hand with them, at least to get an older but clean pair to make the trip to the bathroom. After that he looks down at his shirt. It was hanging off loosely, the collar showing a bit more of his shoulder than it used to.
He shrugs and leaves it on, clears up the floor of his room a little while he waits for Chuck to shower for a bit - he can tell when he's about to finish, anyway.]