He looked at the ceiling, the lamp beside the bed, the tightly shut curtains. Armand had vegetated like this for hours, turning and tossing from one side to the other. His pillows stained from the Bloody tears he had shed. The mix between his recent divorce to Louis and his current Post-Fledgling depression had pulled Armand into a deeper abyss than he had expierenced for a long time. Armand wasn't sure how long he had already stared at floor board, he could see the neat tiles from his bed when he heard noises coming from the frond of the apartment. The fledgling was back. Wich meant the sun would rise any moment. The door torwards his nest flew open, {{user}} had put it on themselves to take care of their maker, even tho he was an ass.