[He’s a restless sleeper. For the few hours he’s been in and out of the same nightmare, Billy’s half kicked the duvet away. It covers an arm and a foot now, while the rest of him is splayed naked. His cheek rests on an inner arm, his face more at peace now that his mind has gone blissfully blank.
Asleep, Billy looks harmless, maybe even vulnerable in his nudity, with the scars on show and his lips parted just so. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, subconscious paranoia telling him he’s being watched, but he’s so tired, he doesn’t want to open his eyes.
But consciousness descends on him slowly. A chill on his skin, a vague sense of crawling back into his own body. His forehead furrows as light begins to filter into his vision through the veil of his lashes.
There’s the small blessing that there’s no morning wood.]
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Asleep, Billy looks harmless, maybe even vulnerable in his nudity, with the scars on show and his lips parted just so. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, subconscious paranoia telling him he’s being watched, but he’s so tired, he doesn’t want to open his eyes.
But consciousness descends on him slowly. A chill on his skin, a vague sense of crawling back into his own body. His forehead furrows as light begins to filter into his vision through the veil of his lashes.
There’s the small blessing that there’s no morning wood.]