Andrew woke up in the middle of the night. He attempted to sit up, but to no avail. He couldn't move. Instantly, he was sent into a panic, as memories from that night flooded into his mind. He could almost hear Norton choking to death, he could almost see it. His breathing became quick and it felt like he couldn't get even a drop of air into his lungs. And yet, Andrew still couldn't move.
His mobility came back to him all at once, as he jolted up and clutched at his chest. The only noise that could be heard in the room was Andrew gasping for air, almost as if he was reliving what had taken Norton from him. He wasn't sure why he wasn't able to breathe well in his former state of paralysis, but it left him with tears prickling at his eyes. The mental image of Norton's dead body was stained into Andrew's mind, and left him unable to sleep or rest at all.
Andrew figured this would be a good time to fix his appearance.
He let himself calm down before getting up and walking into the bathroom, a stumble in his step. His legs had not gotten used to the extreme comfort of a bed after only having a hard floor for the last week or so.
Looking into the mirror, he was almost unrecognizable. His cheeks had sunken in, leaving his cheekbones scarily prominent. His eye bags were blood red, and his eyes had also sunk back into his skull somewhat. He looked just as dead as Norton. His hair was messy, some parts of it in a horrible knot. There was no life to his skin, no glow of a soft red that resided in his cheeks whenever Norton would say anything.
He sighed, examining himself. The scars scattered on his face had begun to stand out more than anything. Norton had made Andrew feel so much more confident, and now he hated even having to acknowledge that he had a physical appearance.
"What's wrong with me?" Andrew asked under his breath, staring holes into the mirror. He had transformed so quickly, and so much. He touched his face, outlining his defined cheekbones and scarring.
He sighed, glancing over the dirty bathroom counter to find a brush. Norton always forgot to clean up after himself after coming home, but Andrew had never minded. He was just glad Norton came home.
Tears once again welled up in his eyes. Brushing his hair should not have been this emotionally challenging. He spotted the brush Norton had last used. Andrew gently grabbed it and ran it through his hair, brushing from top to bottom. He tried to be patient with the knots, but he came to a point where he was just yanking the brush through them as hard as he could.
Andrew would've just cut the knots out, but his hair was already cut horribly. One of Norton's favorite features on Andrew was his hair, so he wouldn't dare mess with it. Andrew's hair was brittle as it was, and the amount of hair loss he experienced with a simple brushing through was astounding. By the time he got every knot out, he was surprised he wasn't bald. He pulled the clumps of white, silky hair out of the brush and tossed them into the trash can.
That was enough grooming for him. He didn't have the emotional energy for much else, and had gotten sleepy again. He wasn't recovered from the episode of paralyzation, but he was sleepier than he was scared.
He stumbled back into the bedroom and plopped into the bed, falling asleep directly after he pulled the blankets over himself.
