『 ᴀᴇɢʀᴏᴛᴏs』
Send me a ✍ and I will generate a number 1-200
2-The fact that I’m not dead is sort of puzzling to me.
Tokiya looked at his closet door from his position on his bedroom floor.
Honestly, he had no idea how he was still conscious, let alone capable of coherent thought. His vision was swimming in ways that left him flabbergasted. He had been simply walking in his room from the kitchen, a cup of tea that had previously been in his hand ending up empty by his head with the warm beverage seeping into his carpet.
He should try... getting up?
He honestly felt as if someone had taken a sledge hammer to his head, and perhaps also to other various spots of his person. Had he hit his head on the way down? He supposed that he could have, judging by his proximity to his nightstand but--
He didn't remember.
He heard his phone ringing from its spot on top of his bed, although the singer was left unable to get the device as his limbs wouldn't move.
He'd-- try later.
