Stretched out on the bed, shoulders and head resting on the headboard, eyes closed, ear-buds pumping a continual beating rhythm into his mind as one song followed another, the young man gave the impression of zoning out into sleep. His arms folded across his chest, his legs crossed at the ankles, someone glancing over would have thought he was simply relaxing after a long day. No one would have guessed that his muscles were tense, that his body was waiting, that his mind was churning with thoughts.
“Where is he?”
“Where is he?”
( Read more... )
- Location:home
- Mood:
happy - Music:Kansas - Carry On My Wayward Son (what else for Dean's B-day?)
