[The trip to his room is spent in silence—one that clings oppressively to Stiles even as the young man shoulders his way through the usual bustling crowds of the resort. By the time they reach the suite, he seems no less wound up. He unlocks the door, shoving it open fully to step inside. The space itself is a disaster, so unlike the tidy chaos Sasuke has seen in passing when the American teen has been moving in or out of the room.
Atop the bed, which is unmade with visible footprints trampling over it, is perhaps a familiar handmade guitar: one of Cyram’s. Strewn around it and across the floor are various loose pieces of paper, all with sharp, slanting handwriting in English. Books pile at their feet, titles ranging from music theory to helping sex abuse victims, corners dogeared. In the corner, an ostentatious shelfing unit stands proudly—clearly borrowed from a more luxurious suite—with a single exotic flower potted on the topmost surface.
Stiles drops to his knees at once, digging under the bed to retrieve two items: a shoebox and a first-aid kit. Both are dumped onto the bed. From the shoebox he pulls out a small handheld mirror, which he uses to check on his neck with a critical eye. The area looks irritated now, likely from the sweater textiles. Wordlessly, the teen begins the process of securing a piece of gauze over the bite marks.
no subject
Atop the bed, which is unmade with visible footprints trampling over it, is perhaps a familiar handmade guitar: one of Cyram’s. Strewn around it and across the floor are various loose pieces of paper, all with sharp, slanting handwriting in English. Books pile at their feet, titles ranging from music theory to helping sex abuse victims, corners dogeared. In the corner, an ostentatious shelfing unit stands proudly—clearly borrowed from a more luxurious suite—with a single exotic flower potted on the topmost surface.
Stiles drops to his knees at once, digging under the bed to retrieve two items: a shoebox and a first-aid kit. Both are dumped onto the bed. From the shoebox he pulls out a small handheld mirror, which he uses to check on his neck with a critical eye. The area looks irritated now, likely from the sweater textiles. Wordlessly, the teen begins the process of securing a piece of gauze over the bite marks.
Not once does he acknowledge Sasuke's presence.]