Suite 518/520, Thursday morning

At some point late last night, Bel had staggered back to his room, crawled into bed, and collapsed. Come morning his head was still spinning just a little, and he was disappointed to see Phoebe had snuck off to class. He was also confused -- what had gotten into him last night? He didn't giggle. Okay, maybe when Phoebe was tickling him, but definitely not like he had been last night. One thing he was sure of was that there was no such thing as a demonic giggling power that he could've absorbed in the Wastelands. That was ridiculous.

There were other reasons he was feeling confused (and somewhat excited) this morning, but he didn't know that yet. So for now he decided to stay in bed until he had good reason to get out of it. Maybe he could train the cats to bring him food.


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