He laid in bed. He hadn't moved since crawling back into the squeaking frame of the bed nearly twelve hours ago. Instead, he laid with his back against the messy sheets of his, completely still, and focused singularly on the ceiling tiles above. His eyes were reddened at the edges, stinging with the dryness one would expect that such inactivity would bring, and instead, chose to blink a number of times in quick successions. It didn't help. Why would it? His mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour, his brain trying to make amends with the actions he had decided to commit. The facility wasn't large. It was not like he could go on avoiding her. Eventually they would meet again. Yet... Then what? He didn't want to be involved with anything that could ruin whatever little "quality of life" that he had left, any semblance of dignity that he could have had. To get out of here? Yes, that would be nice. To actually feel sunshine against in place of blue lights that fought depression, to feel the cool wind on a body again instead of rancid rececyled air that was either too hot or too cold.<br/><br/>He stretched out an arm, hand extended towards the ceiling. He rotated it ever so slightly, wrist turning with a bit of a pop from the stiff posture he had held all night. What was there left to do? She had confided in him, which meant that if anything were to happen to her, there would be a chance that he would be implicated in some way. Then what? He wanted to remain neutral on the topic, to not give it any more thought. Yet, that wasn't possible, was it? She had dragged him into it, whether she meant to or not, and he couldn't exactly shy away knowing what he did. Then... there was the kiss. He brought the outstretched hand back to his face, running the back of his index across his lips in a lateral motion. The smoothness of his lips tingled at the sensation of his own finger tracing their lines, remembering the softness of her lips against his.<br/><br/>No. He stopped thinking about it right away. No, that kiss meant nothing. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about the way her pulse had raced through the wrist of hers that he held. Nor the soft touch of her hips wrapped around his waist. Especially not the kiss. She had said it herself, she didn't care for relationships, she didn't care for sex. He took the look of her eyes, the warmth of her skin, and pushed it deep inside himself, drowning out it's memory with a force of will. There was no need to get attached to the person.<br/><br/>He had turned his head, the simple green lights of the digital clock reflecting back against strained eyes, the lines blurred. Time had past, minute by minute, hour by hour, but it did not pass him by fast. It was only eleven in the morning. He brushed at the corner of his eyes, gunk resting near the bridge of his nose from dried eyes. People had been walking back and forth past his closed door all morning, but he had no inclination to go out there, to bother continuing to live a lie. He just wanted to stay in bed, and let life pass him by.<br/><br/>Yet, he couldn't. It was moments such as these where the mind was able to wander, and his was no different, thinking about all the possibilities. Life? Kids? Freedom? Death? Isolation? Subjugation? He kept battling the voice of reason and the voice of impulsive wants. It was no good. Sweat continued to bead on his forehead, his body, like the morning before, stuck to the sheets sweating once more. It was no good. He might as well take out his frustration in exercising.<br/><br/>He had gathered a simple rag, not even bothering to change into fresh clothes in the state he was already in. He could change after a shower, or so he rationalized with himself. He was lethargic, unfocused, and indifferent. He just moved as an excuse. Before long, he walked into the room where it had all started the day before, hoping full well she would avoid it after what happened yesterday. Ducking in through the door, it was her once more, on the treadmill next to the bike he intended to use. It wasn't worth it, he would come some other time. Not even bothering to make his presence known, he begun to turn away from the doorway.