3rd Floor Common Room, Tuesday Morning
Tuesday, December 20th, 2011 11:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Early risers would be able to catch him coming in: Peter Wiggin, a sour look on his face, seeming somewhat sleep-deprived as he dragged his luggage with him into the common room, where he promptly collapsed on the couch.
Sure, he could have gone all the way to his own room, but he didn't have any food in his own room, and he was hungry. Alongside the tired, the disgruntled, and the thorough feeling of emasculation that Chamrajnagar's email had ignited in him.
He'd drag himself upright, dust himself off, and pretend nothing was wrong the moment he caught sight of anyone else. Honest. But right now, he was going to lay here on this couch and feel miserable.
The world sucked.
[[ open! ]]
Sure, he could have gone all the way to his own room, but he didn't have any food in his own room, and he was hungry. Alongside the tired, the disgruntled, and the thorough feeling of emasculation that Chamrajnagar's email had ignited in him.
He'd drag himself upright, dust himself off, and pretend nothing was wrong the moment he caught sight of anyone else. Honest. But right now, he was going to lay here on this couch and feel miserable.
The world sucked.
[[ open! ]]