#x. apollo

The bed was so comfortable compared to the stretcher. But the room was still fucking spinning, and Dionysus still had problems with actually seeing things properly. If he had to be perfectly honest, he was pretty sure that he was hallucinating. He kept hearing Ariadne’s voice, which was nice enough, if it hadn’t been for the painful fact that Ariadne was not actually with him. So Dionysus just wanted to sleep, so that the goddamn hallucinations would leave him the fuck alone. He didn’t need reminders of better days. Not today, when everything was pretty much shit. A couple of hours passed (or at least that’s what Dionysus assumed) because when he opened his eyes again, he felt considerably more sober. He was not quite sure how he felt about this fact... He was still fairly certain that alcohol had saved his life the night before. A few seconds of confusion passed before he tried to sit up in the bed only to fall back onto the pillows again. What the fuck was going on? He tried once more, but failed again. So he gave up for the time being, and waited for someone to come to him instead. Eventually, he spotted a familiar figure in the door way, and a crooked smile spread on his lips, happy to finally see someone he actually liked.