SATe [✔]

[11] insipience

A nudge at my ribs causes me to jerk awake, my cheek tearing away from the paper and lightly tearing the journal, "Brady,"

Smith. Only recognisable in my groggy state, from the hair flowing down her back.

She had luckily turned from me after speaking, giving me enough time to close the book over and think of ways to glue strands of paper together. Something told me Cassiel would jump on me if he found out what I'd done in a half-awake stupor.

Smith was slowly picking up different books I had sifted through and attempted to study throughout the night. Most of which had been put down within five minutes due to either an over-complicated nature or a frenzied panic of writing that left it illegible. The majority of the journals seemed to be written by the same people, and you could certainly tell when they were jubilantly wrapped up in the topic.

Her eyes were slightly glazed over as she went through some of the pages; her cheeks had become flushed, but I put that down to the decreased temperature in the room.

"Did you seriously sleep up here? We do have rooms, you know?" I couldn't recall that information ever reaching me, but it was surely a conclusion I could have come to myself. The size of the base indicated that there were layers of rooms I had yet to peel away; therefore, the chances of their being guest bedrooms as well as bedrooms for the team, wasn't exactly an obscure suggestion. Then as I considered it, I realised that of all the rooms within this building, I truly doubted feeling any more comfortable in them than this one.

Sitting here last night and glancing out of the window anytime overwhelming boredom hit me, I realised how far removed I was from the team. Most of them spent their time on the middle platform, only briefly visiting the kitchen if moving at all. I had overheard that it was Priestley's turn to roam the streets tonight, a decision that left her grunting over the radio every so often; the exclamations hitting my ears whenever a member of the team would come close enough to the glass.

I had become frustrated as I sat here, failing to comprehend the information, and feeling crippled under the weight of responsibility that both Marie and Franklin were saddling me with. I found myself admitting a desperate truth, "I just hoped the information would flow in if I pressed my head hard enough."

I wouldn't be able to deny doing the same as I struggled to complete my studies in high school. I wasn't exactly a dim student in any sense of the word; I just struggled to put my thoughts down on paper, even in those instances where I knew the answer perfectly well. I had gotten by, with Hannah and Timothy hiding their disappointment through acknowledgement. I could only thank my inclination towards physical activity that I ended up in a line of work I felt comfortable in.

My hidden plea was briefly met by a sugary laugh that sang ignorant to the plight, "Did it work?"

I could only shake my head, beginning to reorganise the books I'd been given last night. I had hoped to be able to place these back on their respective shelves, leave the base, and crawl into my own bed; to forget about all of this again, just for a moment. At least one moment.