Room 408, Saturday Morning

[apocalipped]

The dance? Had been nice. Nice in that sort of, 'I am here, I am not being particularly social, but I have a lovely date and I'm going to enjoy this, damn it,' kind of way that Jono was so good at. But that much social interaction was tiring, to say the least, and so he was absolutely planning on spending his Saturday in bed. And it would be great, and to hell with anything in the world that thought that he was going to be getting up, at least until late afternoon.

It was possible that Jonothon was slightly delusional, yes.

[For wee ones, roomies, whatever!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

Jono did remember, vaguely, but he appreciated that George was willing to clarify, that way.

Especially with her volume turned down, like that. That part was much more appreciated.

He nodded a little, and then shrugged.

//I can't deny that,// he said, finally. //Not that it has any effect on me, really.//

Whether he was talking about the food, or the being extra-British on purpose, the world would never know.