It was a cold bitter day. The october breeze rustled through the overhead trees, howling against the old concrete buildings of this city. It was dull, and grey, most of the place looking like a dilapidated city at this time of day, the sun barely visable over the misty horizon.

Trevor had been awake for a while, sat perched upon the end of the bed with his hands delicately resting upon his knees, sat in some loose fitting briefs. He stared at the floor — Lost in thought — And the dark rings beneath his eyes showed his lack of sleep. His chest, which was now bare, exposed his underweight figure. It rose and fell ay a steady rythm, methodicall nearly. Though, he blinks, coming back to reality as he hears you stir upon the bed just behind him, urging him to look over his sharp bone of a shoulder toward your resting figure.