one of those mornings
@parrotingmack
That Bisi had a habit of sleeping barely, badly, or not at all, was no secret to anyone who knew him well. And even those who didn’t know him well weren’t really surprised when he told them. Not that he ever really told people about this. It was connected to the kind of personal reasons he didn’t like to bore people with. But nothing about him ever quite seemed to speak of exhaustion or relaxation. He was always vibrating with ideas and enthusiasm for this world in which he lived. Even during times when the world was sleeping.
One day had passed since Jamie’s task in the basement of the Silver Library. There was a lot to say about that night and the day that had followed it. Not so much about the next night. Bisi hadn’t slept. It had been one of those nights where the rapid flutter of his heart beat had consumed his every fibre, where his eyes had refused to stay shut, where his breath was shallow as though he’d been running for miles. And therefore it was also one of those mornings.
The moment the depth of night yielded to the very early morning hours, he dressed, grabbed his bag and made his way to Mack. Perhaps he should’ve knocked instead of letting himself in into her room by the darkness of it all, but he couldn’t care less, not even about explaining why he had the keys. Standing over her, he nudged her. When her eyes opened, he straightened up again and nodded for her to follow him. “Come. We need fresh air.”