<span style="font-size: 85%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #33FFEE">Much to Silver's surprise, he'd slept through the night. After taking a moment to wake up, he slowly sat up and instantly regretted the decision to do so. It felt like someone was beating his head with a bag of cement, or more like trying to rip his skull in half. Elbows resting on his knees, he covered his face with his hands, a small, pathetic sound leaving him.<br/><br/>He couldn't remember much from the night before; somewhere around drink number five things started to get fuzzy. Unfortunately, he still remembered what lead to his drinking the night before; there was no forgetting that. Taking a long minute, the pounding in his head subsided enough for him to lift his head...slowly. Blinking away the blurriness of sleep, Silver looked around the room, a confused look slowly creeping into his face.<br/><br/>This...was not his room. Or was he still so drunk that he was seeing things? No, that couldn't be it. This room looked completely different. There was no desk full of books and unfinished school work under the skylight. There was no skylight. White curtains instead of blue on windows much taller than the ones in his room. And then his hands moved over his knees, feeling the soft, silky fabric move against his skin. Looking down, he quirked an eyebrow. His sheets were cotton and plaid...not a dark satin. There was no way this was Stella's room (his roommate). So where the hell was he?<br/><br/>That's when he heard the soft padding of feet on hardwood floors just outside the room, his gaze slowly shifting to the door and wondering who would come through it.</span></span>