He huffed as the other mentioned him sticking around longer, and while he was complaining now he probably would... It was nice not sleeping outside or in some grungy hovel somewhere. Still, it was hard to believe this was all...<i>real</i>. But he also couldn't deny that his night had just been one nightmare after another. So, as he heard the man begin to head upstairs and offer him a room he simply waved him off, content where he was on the couch... Or rather he was already dozing off again and too lazy to move.<br/><br/>Once alone his mind wandered... though thankfully it wasn't allowed to get anywhere too distressing before he was sound asleep, the first good and deep sleep he'd had in a couple of weeks. When he did eventually wake it was nearing noon of the following day, not that the minimal light able to pass through the curtains gave that away. His throat burned and his stomach was aching as he sat up and blearily went to get a glass of water, though it wasn't until he was at the sink that the cold blood still in the mug on the counter caught his attention.<br/><br/>The smell woke him instantly, but as before he bit his lip and looked away... It was easier when it was cold it seemed, though his body was trying so hard to make him drink. He shook his head and filled a glass with water which he drank as he shuffled back out to the other room. He was miserable, and as he sipped the water he only felt his thirst worsening, and so he put the glass down and curled up on the couch once more. Why'd this had to happen to him?