guilty of devotion - [dnp au]

3.:. blank you out // seafret

TW: usage of marijuana and alcohol

xxx

september 4th

4 in the morning. Eyes bleary, Enya lying on my thighs, buried in the sheets of my newly claimed bed. Sleep talking about a makeup tutorial she'd seen on YouTube for what feels like hours.

The only source of light in our room - a dusty lamp on the nightstand next to Phil's bed; it lights up the room poorly, yet gives the space a homely vibe I so crave. Like the lighting in your room at the end of the day, when you're all set to fall sleep but have to check your phone beforehand.

I couldn't tell much from the first look around the dorm room, when after just arriving the space seemed empty. Empty, what actually turned out to be quite the opposite - more furniture (two nightstands, a desk and a poor conditioned chair in desperate need of a replacement) was hidden in the room's built-in closet by the entrance.

To describe how we changed a room from somewhat tidy to a shipwreck in a matter of hours, I could start with my playlist, which is still playing from Phil's phone right next to my pillow for some reason I can't recall. The new Billie Eilish's song I saved on the day we had our flight to Ireland, think that's playing.

The flight was yesterday. How difficult to comprehend all that has happened since.

Moving on.

The room - or my new room here on the campus of Mullingar Art College - smells like absolute garbage and I'm unable to tell whether from the scattered pieces of marijuana across the window sill from when Phil rolled the first joint of the night, or the remaining vodka.

Either of those things is making everything seem like we're in a dream. Like nothing exists. Nothing but this moment and the smell and the warms bodies within. Much better that way.

- Turn that shrap off, I'm trying to sleep. - Phil groans from across the room, lying on his stomach half asleep, with no shirt on.

The boy's sleeping on his bed, the blanket he and En danced around with earlier nowhere to be seen. Probably somewhere on the floor but I'm so tired I can't even move my head to look.

Somewhat hard for me to ignore the fact that both Enya and Phil have so little clothes on. Not because I like the view, which perhaps deep down I kind of do, but it's unnatural seeing two total strangers being this comfortable.

- What, again? - I respond, putting every bit of energy I have left into a final laugh.

- That shitrap. Shitty crap. Shit crappy. - Phil talks under his breath while I try my very best to laugh but all my face can make up is a painful smile.

I'm high. Still.

~

Terrified, I press on the doorknob to enter the room 555 for the first time.

Pitch black. I can't see anything but shadows until Phil pushes me aside delicately, searching for the light switch.

As soon as the room is illuminated, I notice the obvious abandonment, dust covering shelves and a spider or two crawling across the ceiling. An almost empty space, with only two beds and a closet filling it up. Not disappointed. I expected less from what people spread around about the condition of college dormitories. Besides, there's room for improvement and, perhaps, I could make it these four walls a temporary home.

Nevertheless, this school sure has a thing for dividing spaces in half.

One, admittedly, prison-looking bed's placed by the right and the other - the left wall and between them a white sheet, kind of similar to a curtain, not only separates the sides but makes the room appear even smaller, too.