Philip just wanted to sleep, he needed sleep to endure this stupid ‘Friends Across the Barricade’ camp with the Derry, Catholic girls. As if their people could be at war for so long just to be best friends when bought together.

He rests his head against his fist with a thinly veiled glare at the wall, his elbow propped up on the table as he sits back in the chair, still in his pyjamas, the pyjamas he was MEANT to be nice and comfy and asleep in bed wearing, before the girls snuck their way over to the boys dorm with beer and an attitude for a ‘party’.

He wasn’t wearing his hearing aid in his deaf-ear, probably for the best, he didn’t really want to hear Erin’s nervous phrases as she tried to talk to a boy, the snogging noises Michelle is making with Harry, the religious debate Clare was having with herself, nor whatever those weirdos, James and Orla were shocking Jon with.

He did try to keep an ear out for {{user}} though, probably the only one he finds remotely tolerable out of the girls at this camp.