When the Dawn Breaks [TBAU]

☆ Chapter 32 ☆

The morning was hazy and overcast. Rays of sunlight peeked through a blanket of clouds occasionally, and streamed through Impulse's window. He opened his eyes blearily when the rays hit him in the face.

Maybe if the sun were to linger outside of the cloud cover for more than a few seconds, Impulse could stare into its fire and blind himself. Though that would be painful, and not very sensible, he reasoned. He wasn't sure why the thought crossed his mind, so he took to forgetting that it had. He might as well get out of bed now anyways.

The demon pulled himself into a sitting position with a tired groan, running his hands over his exhausted eyelids. Void above. If he hadn't known better, he would've thought he was hungover. He certainly felt like he was.

A headache throbbed between his temples and behind his eyes, and his face felt somewhat similar to melting wax, dripping and difficult to shape correctly. A quick lookover of himself revealed that he'd slept in his clothes, the garments now looking wrinkled and depressed. That is, if clothes could look depressed. Being honest, he felt pretty gross. His tongue was stale and sour in his mouth, he could see that his hair was awfully tangled and messy where it fell in front of his eyes. He brushed the curls back with a hand. His hair really was getting long, it was far overdue for a trim.

Not that there was much point in doing so, but still.

He pushed his blankets about around him, forcing his drooping eyes to focus. He really just needed a shower, a toothbrush, and a comb right about now.

But first, he did what he'd started doing every morning as of late, which was to remind himself of how many days he had left. He'd put a calendar on his bedside table in case he needed to check. Maybe at some point he'd hang it on the wall, who knows. Anyways, calendar hanging aside, he should be on twelve days left, right? Or- no, actually. Eleven. Yesterday had been twelve.

Right. Yesterday.

The realization came like a flood wave, all at once and far too watery. He wiped back the tears that had sprung to his eyes. What tears? He wasn't crying.

Impulse took a few deep breaths. Maybe yesterday hadn't actually happened. Maybe it had all been his imagination. Maybe Keralis wasn't somewhere in the infirmary and maybe his friends hadn't held him as he'd cried. Maybe it hadn't happened. But... maybe it had.

Gods, nothing was going to plan anymore. Not that there even had been a plan to begin with–

A crash sounded from outside his room, followed by a short yelp, instantly interrupting his train of thought.

Impulse had been about to go clean himself up a little, but now his curiosity was piqued, and it took precedence over comfort. Who was in his house, and why on earth were they there? (Well, he had an idea why, but he didn't want to think about it) He got up from bed, and padded out to his living/kitchen area slowly, thinking the little yelp had sounded a lot like Tango.

That assumption turned out to be correct, as there was indeed a Tango in his kitchen.

The blazeborn held a metal skillet, and his tail flicked back and forth behind him in irritation. "–lousy clumsy fingers," Impulse caught Tango muttering under his breath. Having heard Impulse, Tango's head flicked up, his expression blank for a moment before morphing into a kind smile.

"Mornin' Sweetums!" Tango joked, chuckling under his breath.

"...Morning," Impulse returned slowly, eyes narrowing at the hermit. "What are you doing here?" He asked in an irritated mumble. A quick glance to his left revealed that Tango wasn't even the only hermit here either. A blond fluff stood out against his couch cushions, Zedaph lying there, fast asleep. Great, two people he had to kick out of his house.