He sat up in bed, confused and bewildered. The room was lit with what little sunshine creeped through the windows and soft candlelight.
Paultin looked down at his messy button-down shirt and noticed two things: One, it was indeed very messy. The elbows were worn thin, and it had been buttoned so quickly, it had somehow been able to miss several buttons and push the left collar up to his chin.
Two, it wasn't his shirt.
His shirt, was caked with blood and sitting on the small desk across the room. In fact, Paultin thought to himself, he didn't recognize this place at all.
Where the hell was he?
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Waking Up With No Clue What's Going On Is Paultin's Aesthetic [Unfinished]
FanfictionWhen Paultin wakes up one morning alone, in someone else's shirt, somewhere he's never seen before, he thinks it's just a normal day. But when he sees that his shirt is covered in blood, he realizes things might be a bit more complicated than he exp...
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